Kindred Counterparts
by StarryEyedWriter8
Summary: The saying 'love at first sight' certainly didn't pertain to Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. Heck, they didn't even like each other. Will time, family, and circumstance be able to change their predicament? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! So, I've found I'm still just as awkward writing AN's as I once was so ... yay! **

**Anyway, welcome to my new AU story. It's a bit different from what I've written in the past, but I hope you'll enjoy it just the same. **

**I want to thank everyone who helped me with this story when I first started writing it. You know who you are.**

**Also, I want to give HUGE thanks to Fran for beta'ing this story. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**Mr G and Me and Monica03 are my pre-readers and they're the BEST. Thank you so much for your help. Go check out their fics! You won't regret it!**

**Sarah Dooley made the awesome banner for this story. Thank you, Sarah!**

*****Just a slight warning, this won't be an "instant love" type of story. This will be a slow burn, but I do promise a HEA.*****

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

"Bella! Come back here!"

I race through the crowd, weaving and bobbing around people so I don't bump into anyone. I have to get as far away as I can, but I'm at a disadvantage; I've only gone two blocks, and I'm already out of breath and my legs are aching.

_I need to exercise more often. _

Luckily, Port Angeles is bigger than Forks, so I can easily hide in between and behind people. I continue forward, ignoring the curious stares and disgruntled curses. I shout an apology over my shoulder, not wanting to stop. I need to get away, and fast, but there's only so far my tired body can go.

There wasn't any time to eat something this morning before I was pulled from bed and thrown into the car, so I think getting something to eat will be my first priority after I manage to get away.

"Isabella!"

Cursing under my breath, I quicken my steps as I see my favorite store up ahead and slip inside, catching my breath.

Kevin, the owner, gives me a curious glance and I put a finger up to my lips. He shakes his head with a smirk, walking away.

After a minute, when there's no sign of me being followed, I straighten up and breathe a sigh of relief as I look around.

To me, this place is my heaven; technically, it's two stores, separated by a beaded curtain; a music and art shop.

He reasoned that it was cheaper just to rent this huge building, instead of renting two different places. Plus, this way he could keep an eye on his 'babies.'

He's serious about his businesses, not that I blame him. From his tales, he worked damned hard to get this place up and running so, however he wants to run it, is cool. For me, it's definitely convenient. I can get my art supplies and music in the same stop.

Since I'm here, I decide I might as well stock up on the things I need.

I grab a handbasket and my phone buzzes in my pocket with a text. It's from my cousin, Rose.

_**Really mature, Isabella. Don't run off again. It could be dangerous. Where are you?**_

Rolling my eyes, I type out a response.

_**I can take care of myself.**_

A minute later, she replies back.

_**I know you *think* you can, but you're not invincible. Where. Are. You? I will search all over this damn town for you, and you know it. **_

Gritting my teeth, I punch out a response, hoping she'll leave me alone. I need some time to decompress; from her less than pleasant wake-up call to her constant criticism of my sleeping habits, I've had enough for the morning.

_**Don't you have somewhere to be? I thought that was the whole purpose of coming to Port Angeles?**_

My phone is silent in my hand, and either Jasper is trying to calm her down, or tell her she's gone too far with her over-bearing, mothering ways this morning.

_You'd think we weren't the same age with how she acts sometimes._

While I'm waiting for her inevitable reply, I browse the art section, stocking up on my favorite drawing pencils and paper. I see a few things I think Rose will like and toss them in as well before heading over to the music section.

As I'm browsing the new releases, my phone chimes.

_**Meet me at the car in an hour and a half. Call Jasper or me if you need anything.**_

Of course, she wouldn't admit she's taking things too far. Everything Rosalie Lillian Whitlock does has a purpose, and she's never wrong.

I should be used to it by now, and in some ways, I am. She and Jasper have been living with my parents and me for the past eleven years, and in that time, I've gotten used to her protective ways. Some days, like today, I'm just pushed over the edge, and I can't let it roll off me like I normally do.

_All I wanted was an hour more of sleep. It's not that unreasonable. _

I send an acknowledgment of her text, knowing if I don't send her something, she'll end up tracking me down, and I don't need that right now.

Once I have a stack of CDs I go up to the checkout counter, where Kevin waits with a bright smile, his shoulder-length gray hair tied back at the base of his neck.

"Hello, Bella. Nice seeing you today."

"You too, Kev. Nice shirt," I say, nodding toward his worn, threadbare tie-dyed Woodstock shirt.

He laughs, the sound raspy and gritty with age. "Hey, don't knock the threads, young one. This was good music."

"I'm sure it was. What year was that? The eighteen hundreds?"

He shakes his head, his smile growing bigger and his wrinkles more pronounced. "No respect for your elders." He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before his eyes light up and he points at something behind him. "Did you see what I put up?"

Behind him, a medium-sized canvass of musical notes floating across a colorful sea hangs on the wall. It's not the best thing to display; the work is rather sloppy and crude, and I tell him so.

"You're too hard on yourself. I think it's wonderful and it's your own fault for leaving it in the workshop."

I grumble, still beating myself up over that. The art shop had held a small class for painters of all levels. Since I hadn't branched out from pencil drawing, I had gone in and painted the picture Kevin hung. I had meant to take it with me, intent on hiding it in the closet with my other handful of paintings, since I felt my skills were still too shaky. However, I had forgotten it when Rose called me in a rush, telling me to get a move on.

He looks behind him, smiling. "I think it's wonderful. I have a Bella Swan original. You know, like life, sometimes art is supposed to be messy. It makes way for change ... to be better. Don't you think?"

I nod in agreement, never having thought of it that way.

"All right. You've listened to an old man talk enough. Your total is thirty-one, eighty-four."

Handing him the money, I shake my head. "Honestly, I'd rather listen to you talk than anyone else."

I really would. No one in Port Angeles or Forks is more interesting to speak to than Kevin. If I could, I would listen to his war stories and the places he's traveled any time. But he has a family and a business to run, and I have things to do.

Plus, I don't have my own car, which kind of puts a damper on going places, especially when they're an hour away.

"You're too kind. Stay out of trouble."

"Stay out of trouble," I reply, walking out of the door backward. "That's like telling a wolf not to hunt!"

His laughter is drowned out by the noisy street. I spin around and immediately bump into someone, their hands grasping my upper arms as they reach out to steady me. I look up, and I have to bite my lip to keep it closed.

I haven't ever seen anyone this handsome outside of Hollywood. I mean, yeah, there are some good looking guys in Port Angeles and a couple of guys you'd take a second look at in Forks, but _nothing _like this.

He has a full head of messy bronze hair, pale skin and peculiar, brownish-orange eyes that are framed with dark, thick lashes. His body is lean with a slightly muscular build to it. My eyes follow his arms down to where his hands are holding onto me. It's then I notice how cold his hands are, even though I'm wearing my long-sleeved shirt.

However, I brush it off. He's probably just really cold.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I guess I should start to do that more often. It helps greatly in a thing called walking, I hear," I say with a light laugh. "Are you okay?"

Quickly, he snatches his hands away from my arms, the action causing me to stumble back slightly, though it's not enough to make me fall.

Instead of laughing it off and forgiving me for my accident, he glares and scoffs at my words, as if it's an impossibility that he could ever be hurt. His nostrils flare, and his teeth snap together with an audible _click_. The unexpected response has my eyes widening and me taking an unconscious step back before I stop myself.

He too, I notice strangely, takes a step backward, his lips pressed so tightly together they disappear into the paleness of his skin tone.

While there's something off and somewhat frightening about this guy, I remind myself not to be afraid, though everything within me is telling me to run as far away as I can. For a moment, I debate about whether or not I should, but decide against it.

I apologized for what I did. He doesn't have to act like a dick about it.

Straightening my back, I step forward, resuming my previous position and match his glare with one of my own. We stand in tense silence, a weird showdown unfolding as we glare at one another.

After a moment, he swallows audibly, and his eyes drop down to the ground as takes another step backward. I bite the inside of my lip to contain my satisfied smirk.

He sighs, his posture still tense and his attitude radiating hostility as he speaks, his voice a strange combination of silky roughness that sends a pleasurable chill throughout my body. "I need to get by."

I remain where I am, balking at the nerve of this guy.

He isn't going to apologize?

I never thought I'd agree with my bitchy grandmother Beth, but I have to admit she's right; no one has manners anymore.

"What?" he snipes, no doubt noticing my frustrated astonishment.

"You're not going to apologize?"

He looks baffled by my question. For a brief second, I think he has to be kidding, but the confused expression lingering on his face tells me he's not.

Does he actually think he has nothing to apologize for? Really?

"You're rude, and you caused me to stumble. I think that merits an apology."

"First of all, your stumble was your own fault. Secondly, _you _ran into _me,_" he says.

"And I apologized for it. You know, because I'm _polite._"

He says nothing, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he sighs heavily, looking over my shoulder toward the store's door.

Realizing I'm wasting my time, I step to the side. Never removing my eyes from his form, I stare after him as he stalks past me into the store without looking back.

I watch him through the front windows, my eyes tracking him as he goes down every aisle meticulously, pausing now and then when something catches his eye. Through the dirty glass, I notice his once tense posture has faded into one of contentment, though his face still appears heavy with emotion.

Briefly, I wonder if he's just in a bad mood or if he's like me and isn't a people person. Regardless, it's not my problem, and at least _I _can apologize when it warrants it.

His eyes meet mine through the window, and a look of surprise washes over his face, his eyebrows shooting up high onto his forehead, his eyes wide and round. Surprise is quickly replaced by confusion as his head tilts slightly to the right as he stares.

_First I was a bug on his shoe, and now I'm a freak to be studied? I don't think so, jerk. _

My lips press together as I give him one last look through narrowed eyes before walking off, disappearing in the horde of people.

As I march through the crowded sidewalk, my mind repeats the encounter with _him. _

I can't believe he didn't even have the decency to apologize, though I'm not really surprised. Most people, in my experience, would rather walk over you than admit they were wrong. It seems _he _is no exception.

My rumbling stomach takes my mind off _the encounter of the rude kind_, reminding me I didn't have time to eat before I was dragged out of the house.

Inside my favorite café, I quickly stand in line, looking around for anything to distract me. To my left is a huge bulletin board and tacked onto the cork are different fliers; notices for a poetry reading, book clubs, music auditions, and furniture for sale among other papers stuck haphazardly to the board.

It's what's in the center that easily captures my attention.

A missing person's flyer for a girl, a few years older than me with curly, dirty blonde hair, pale hazel eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. In the photo, she's smiling brightly without a care in the world.

_**MISSING PERSON: Abigail Mitchell Age 19**_

_**Last seen: March 12th; walking home from Peninsula College to her apartment. **_

_**If you have any information, please contact the Port Angeles Police Department. **_

According to the page beside it, half-obscured by advertisements for a roommate, this isn't the first who's gone missing this month. Another girl vanished outside of her work while she was on her break.

_I wonder if Dad has heard anything about this. _

"Hey."

Whipping my head over, I see Jasper, my other cousin, standing there with a concerned look on his face. I give him a tight smile.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"You're not still mad are you?" He questions. "She means well, honestly. You know Rosalie; sometimes she has no filter. With her upcoming move, she's kind of in overdrive, you know? When we were in Seattle, she was a mess."

"No, it's not that. I just had an unfortunate run-in with the rudest person on the west coast."

His eyes narrow as his jaw hardens. He and Rose share a lot of qualities like most twins do; they have tall, lean figures, beautiful, dark blue eyes and the same streak of protectiveness when it comes to family.

"Who was it? What'd they look like?"

I wave him off and step up to the counter. Being here multiple times, we always get the same thing, so it's easy to order for him.

"Well?" He asks again once we're sitting at a table. "I'll get a shovel and get Rosalie to help. You know she will."

I laugh. Rose may be a pain sometimes, but she would do anything for family. "I'm trying to let it go. Where did you go?"

"I got a new pair of jeans," he says, holding up a shiny bag.

_Finally! _

I don't like to agree with Rose most of the time, but I _do _agree he needed a new pair. The current ones he has on are caked with dirt, and there are holes everywhere. In fact, the holes in the knees are now up to his thighs, with the bottoms of his boxer briefs showing.

I hold back the shiver of disgust. There are some things I don't need to know about my cousin, and the color of his underwear is definitely one of them.

_I don't think I'll ever sleep again. _

Jasper rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know. I needed a new pair. Don't start."

I hold my hands up in the air, plastering an innocent expression on my face. "Not a word. I don't know why you even bothered wearing pants in the first place."

"Ugh, you two are disgusting." Lauren Mallory glares at us, her face puckered up in a sneer.

"Yeah, I can see how _eating _would be disgusting, considering you've never done it before. It's how most people survive," I reply, not looking up.

"I mean the two of you," she says, pointing between Jasper and me. "You're both disgusting. Keep it behind closed doors."

Jasper and I look at each other with matching expressions of confusion. "What the hell are you going on about?" He asks, utterly puzzled.

Lauren throws her hands up in the air, the sneer on her face deepening. "I heard what you said about his pants. Keep that shit in the privacy of your messed up home."

Unable to help myself, I laugh. Loudly. People from other tables look over in curiosity, whispering and shaking their heads as they continue on eating and drinking while I continue to laugh like I've been given laughing gas. Jasper simply shakes his head, an uncomfortable look on his face, but his eyes are sparkling with humor.

"What is so damn funny?"

I reign in my laughter, taking in a lungful of air in an attempt to control myself.

"Look," I start, once I can breathe easily. "Just because you screw everything with a pulse, doesn't mean I do."

Her face starts to turn an odd shade of red, and her hands form fists at her sides. I sit back, crossing my arms over my chest and meet her expression with an even one.

"Are you calling me a whore?"

"Was I not clear enough? Tell me what you didn't understand, and I'll use smaller words next time."

Jasper snickers as she screeches, taking a step toward me. Jasper jumps up from his seat, and I roll my eyes as he glowers at her. Out of nowhere, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Mike Newton comes up behind her, grabbing her around the waist and tugs her backward.

"Don't do it, babe."

"Yeah," I reply with a short laugh as I stand. "Listen to your boytoy."

He glares at me, matching Lauren's expression perfectly.

Jasper's eyes dart in between the three of us, his body rigid. After a moment, Lauren pushes Mike off her, taking another step back.

"Let's get out of here, Mike. I have things to do."

"Yeah, someone has to screw the football team, eh, Lauren?"

Beside her, Mike shifts, casting a suspicious look at her from the corner of his eye. He doesn't say anything, but his lips are slightly puckered like he wants to.

Lauren, seeing this, plasters a fake smile on her face and brings a hand up to his cheek. Rising on the tips of her toes, she whispers something in his ear, and his expression relaxes into one of relief.

"I haven't seen Rosalie around lately," Lauren says with a smirk. "Has she finally skulked off back under her rock?"

"No, she's moving to better things. Something you'll never know about," I reply, flipping her off and rolling my eyes. "Well, this has been great fun, but I'm losing brain cells the longer I'm in the same vicinity as the two of you, so I'm gonna go."

Lauren sneers as I pass her, but I ignore her as we head for the door. Jasper walks up beside me, humor dancing in his eyes, but he's trying to look pissed.

In reality, he looks constipated.

"I wish you wouldn't have started that ridiculous rumor," he says, shaking his head. "It's never going to die."

"I didn't start it!"

"You didn't deny it either!"

"Don't be so cross, lover," I say jokingly, putting my head on his shoulder and batting my eyelashes theatrically.

"You're sick," he says, pushing me. "Besides, if we were in a relationship, which we're not, then it wouldn't be incest. We're not blood-related."

We don't go around town parading this, but it's the truth; we don't share DNA. His mother was adopted by my maternal grandmother when she was still an infant, but it never mattered to my mother, just like it doesn't matter to me.

We're family. DNA or not.

"Thank the heavens for small favors," I tease.

"I do. Every day."

Feigning outrage. I push him away. "Hey! You're lucky to even know me, peasant."

He chuckles. "Sure."

We continue to walk, with me covertly guiding him toward my next stop: the drug store. I need to re-stock my hair dye and make-up in preparation for tomorrow. The first day of senior year.

Thank the heavens. Just one more year of petty classmates, and banal classwork.

_If only I were as lucky as Rose. _

She and a small handful of others are graduating at the end of December, in an effort to go to college earlier. After that, she'll be moving to Seattle where she'll be working toward a degree in Psychology.

Now I wish I had taken the chance to graduate along with her. I'm not sure I can handle an entire year at Forks High without snapping.

Jasper's words about his time in Seattle with her and my mother comes back.

"What happened in Seattle with Rose?"

Jasper shakes his head, a saddened expression on his face. "She was all over the place. First, she was super pissed and then she was quiet. Back and forth for two whole days while we searched for an apartment for her. I think it's really hitting her now, you? That she's leaving."

He pauses, and I clear my throat, hoping to dispel the heavy feeling there. It doesn't work; if anything, it grows, spreading throughout my body and settling on me like a wet blanket. Rose's upcoming departure isn't something I like to think about. Even though she's a pain in the ass sometimes, she's still my family, and I love her; rough edges and all.

Jasper continues, the frown lines around his mouth becoming more prominent. "She'll be four hours away from us, living by herself. She's scared."

I nudge his side, prompting him to look over at me instead of the ground beneath his feet. "Is that something you know, or is it a twin thing?"

A smile lifts the corner of his mouth as he shrugs a shoulder. "Both."

I nod and continue toward the familiar building. As we wait to cross the street, he pokes my arm, nodding toward something across from us.

"Do you know her?"

Following his gaze, I notice Alice Cullen on the other side of the street across from the pharmacy, her face plastered with bewilderment as she stares at Jasper and me.

To be honest, I don't know her very well; I bumped into her once while I was in town, but we didn't speak much. Our first and only encounter consisted of awkward silence, before it fell into stilted conversation. We had spoken maybe four words to one another before we parted ways. Don't get me wrong, she was very nice, but at the same time seems somewhat stand-offish.

I'm not bothered by it. I have no doubt she's heard the whispers flowing around town about her 'mysterious' family. If I were in her shoes, I would be leery and keep my distance from them too.

What I don't understand is why she seems so shocked at Jasper's appearance. He's pretty strange, but he's not _that _strange.

"Kind of … her name is Alice. She and her family moved to Forks a couple of weeks ago. A few days after you left for Seattle with Mom and Rose."

I pause, studying his expression as he takes in the new girl. There's definite interest and intrigue there, but there's something else I can't put my finger on.

"Do you want me to introduce you or something?"

He jumps slightly with a gasp. "What?"

I laugh. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing … no, nothing; and no, you don't have to introduce me."

"Okay," I say drawing out the word. "You coming to the pharmacy? I need to re-stock my make-up."

He flicks his eyes back over toward Alice's direction, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion when he doesn't see her there. He looks toward the building in question, his mouth pulled down in a slight frown before shaking his head and heaving a sigh.

"No. I need to stop by one more place. I'll meet up with you at the car in an hour or so. Call me if you need anything."

Giving him a mock salute, I wave at him over my shoulder and continue on my way. Knowing I have an hour to kill, I stop inside a few clothing stores, finding a few shirts and a new pair of pants that are just my style. Once I'm done, I head into the pharmacy to get a few things which are a definite _must. _

This morning, before I was so rudely rushed from the house, I had noticed my eyeliner and lipstick were almost gone, and to my horror, my streaks are fading, and are growing out big time.

I make a quick grab for my hair dyes, feeling a little unsettled. I look around, paranoid, and feeling utterly foolish, but the feeling of being watched is strong. I push it away, not finding anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

In the cosmetic aisle, a group of girls I instantly recognize from school are huddled together, looking at foundations and blush as they whisper and giggle about something to one another.

They're giggling obnoxiously and making ridiculous faces as they hold the colors to their faces, erupting in more giggles. I roll my eyes and ignore them, looking through the rows for my product.

It's not anywhere in sight, which means they either stopped selling it or they moved it.

"If they stopped selling it, I'm gonna be so pissed," I mumble to myself, continuing my search.

The giggles cut off with a gasp, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the group of girls looking at me as they whisper furiously while they point in my direction.

"Did you hear that? Bella's talking to herself, oh my God. I can't believe it," one of them says, shocked.

"I know," another cuts in. "I thought it was just a rumor. I guess she really is batshit crazy."

Deciding to have a little fun, I give an exaggerated loud sigh, shaking my head. "Mary, I think they stopped selling my makeup. What am I going to do?"

They gasp and hurry away, the sound of their footsteps filling the store.

Unable to help myself, I laugh loudly. Are they _that _gullible as to actually think I was talking to an invisible person? Based on their hasty departure, I guess they are.

As I work to calm myself down, I hear a light laugh coming from behind me. Turning, I see the Alice Cullen standing there, her eyes shining with humor and a touch of curiosity.

"Sorry," she starts once her laughter is under control. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. It's kind of hard not to, you know? We were in the same aisle, and it got my attention."

I slowly nod, feeling like I'm not the only odd one in the aisle now. During that entire explanation, I don't think she took a single breath.

"You're Bella, right?"

"That's me."

"I'm Alice."

"I know."

She laughs as understanding dawns. "Of course. Are you excited for school tomorrow?"

"Um …" I hesitate in my reply, not expecting her to say this much to me. "Not really, no."

Her face falls. "Oh, really? You don't enjoy it?"

How can I explain how much I detest it? The cliques … the snotty girls thinking everyone is beneath them … the rumors being spread about someone on a daily basis. Not to mention, the constant hook-ups and break-ups that make soap operas look like children's cartoons.

_Yeah, it's a real treat. _

"No, I don't."

Alice pauses for a moment before shrugging. "Well, it's not for everyone."

_Understatement. _

"Yeah. It'll be over soon, though."

_And it can't come fast enough. _

Her face brightens with a smile. "I wonder if we'll share any classes."

"We probably will."

It's more than likely, to be honest. The classes for seniors aren't that varied and pretty basic; if you want a variety of courses, everyone knows you have to go to the Port Angeles community college for those. Only a handful of students have done that, and those are the same ones graduating early this year.

_I really should have followed Rose's example. Why didn't I? Oh yeah, I have no idea what I want to do with my life. _

"How has your day been so far?"

I eye her skeptically, wondering where this bout of friendliness of coming from. Had she just been nervous before? She doesn't appear to be the kind to be nervous about anything; she holds her shoulders straight and her head held high, maintaining eye contact.

_Then again, I could be completely wrong. Everyone has to get nervous over something at some point, right? _

"It's been all right, I suppose. I woke up too early, rude people, yadda, yadda. A day in the life," I say with a snort.

"Someone was rude to you?"

"Yeah," I reply, waving a dismissive hand. "It's fine, though. Either he's insufferable, or he's having a bad day. I doubt I'll ever see him again anyway."

Alice frowns, her head tilting to the side as she pensively stares at me. "Did you know him? What did he look like?"

I shake my head but refrain from answering. Why is she so concerned about who it is was?

Her question, however, brings his face flashing to the forefront of my mind and I ramble off a quick description. My eyes snap to Alice's face, looking for any similarities.

I don't see any, besides the pale skin tone and the purple looking bruises under their eyes. However, that doesn't mean anything. I know as well as anyone that you don't need to look the same to be family. Then again, this could be his girlfriend for all I know.

I groan internally.

_Oh no. Is she going to tear me apart for what I said?_

I remain silent, waiting to see what she's going to do. I'm sure, if they are related or dating, then he's told her all about me; after all, how many people in Port Angeles have purple, black, red, and blue streaked hair?

I brace myself for her inevitable attack, whether it be physical or verbal, but instead, she surprises me.

"Where did you see him last?"

It takes a moment for her question to process, and when it does, I blink three times. Had my assumptions been wrong and Alice doesn't know the jerk I ran into?

That doesn't seem likely. Her question makes me think she wants to _find _him. If they were together in Port Angeles, surely she would know where he was, right?

"Do you know him?"

Alice nods. "Yes, he's—"

She stalls suddenly, her eyes glazing over before she closes them, her body going unnaturally still. Before I can ask if she's okay, she jumps lightly, like she was zapped with static electricity. Her face brightens, a twinkle in her eye.

"I just remembered I have to find something. I'll see you at school? Maybe we can hang out?"

Before I can reply, she rushes off, leaving me alone.

What _was _that?

I have never experienced someone just zoning out like that. Is it a medical condition or does she do it on purpose to get out of social interactions?

_If that's the case, it's very impressive. _

Hurriedly, I finish my shopping and head toward the junkyard to wait for Rose and Jasper. Placing my bags in the trunk, I lean against the car, taking my phone out and playing some mindless games before one of my cousins arrive.

"Hey," Jasper greets a few minutes later, his tone low and troubled.

Before I can question him about what's bothering him, Rose comes stomping over, her face red and her jaw clenched tight.

"Are both of you ready to go?"

Jasper tenses, rolling his shoulders back. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I just had the most frustrating encounter … and there he is," she trails off, a bitter laugh leaving her. She shakes her head as she stares at something … or someone across the street, a hostile grin on her lips. "He sure moved on fast."

Following her line of sight, I find her staring at a huge burly guy with curly brown hair talking with Alice. They look deep in intense conversation, both of them gesturing wildly and pointing every which way. Alice glares up at the guy in front of her, her hands on her hips. He doesn't blink and says something to her that she obviously doesn't like.

Her shoulders hunch inward, and she nods, staring down at the ground. She sighs heavily, her small shoulders lifting and dropping noticeably. The big guy wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she nods again, leaning against his side.

As if they sense eyes on them, they look toward us. The big guy flashes a grin and smirks, nodding his head toward Rose. Alice sends me a wave and a smile toward Jasper.

"Unbelievable," Rose scoffs, shaking her head, her brown tresses flying around her face.

"So, what happened? What'd the big guy do?" I question.

"Ugh, I don't want to talk about it," she grunts, shaking her head, looking disgusted before changing the subject. "Well, I'm glad you're here on time."

I roll my eyes, sighing heavily. "Rose, don't start."

"That part for my car was almost gone, you know? I've been looking for it for weeks! If you would just go to bed at a reasonable time—"

"Rosalie," Jasper warns, but I interrupt him.

"You got it, didn't you? You made it on time, right? What's the problem? Why do you always have to bitch at me?"

Shock and anger cross her face, falling into one of repentance as she takes a deep breath, an apologetic look in her eye as she pulls me into a gentle hug. "I'm just looking out for you. You know staying up isn't good …"

I nod, tuning her out. I know this speech verbatim, but it's coming from a good place. All of our lives Rose has been our second caretaker. She felt it was her duty to step up when my mother was too tired from work or when she was immersed in her hobbies. Not that my mother isn't a good parent; she is. She's always there when you need support, and she loves all of us pain in the ass kids. She makes sure we have food and attempts to cook, but doesn't do so well on that front.

When we're sick, she'll sit with us and just be there as a support system. Unless we're vomiting; the one thing Mom can't handle is vomit.

That's when Rose steps up, and while I appreciate her concern, sometimes I wish she'd just be a normal kid.

No one asked her to do this. She just did it.

Even before Aunt Lillian and Uncle Jack died eleven years ago, she would play house and be the mother figure, while she 'took care' of Jasper and me—her unwilling 'children.' My mom says Rose was simply born to be a mother. Her controlling and lecturing ways aside, I know it's true.

"Just give us warning next time," Jasper says as she pulls back. "You kind of sprung this on us at the last minute."

"I know, but they called _me _at the last minute. I had to jump on it while they had it and it's a good thing I did."

"Why didn't you ask Jake? He would have come and picked it up. He's closer."

"Not by much," she counters. "Besides, he has enough on his plate right now, and we haven't seen him in a long time. It would be rude to ask him for a favor."

Jasper grumbles something unintelligible, probably cursing Rose out for her correct logic. It has been a couple of months since we've seen Jake and the La Push crew. It hasn't been without trying though, but with school, their families and other responsibilities, it's been hell trying to get a moment where we're all free at the same time.

Maybe sometime soon, we'll be able to get together; I miss my secondary family, and from the heavy silence, I know Rose and Jasper do too.

Trying to diffuse the heaviness, I awkwardly hand the bag of items I purchased for her toward her. She peeks inside and smiles, silently thanking me.

Rose opens the trunk, placing the bags inside, looking at me sharply. "You got hair dye?"

"I did," I reply, daring her to challenge me.

"Bella, no. You have such a beautiful color—"

I hold up my hand and give her a pointed look. "Don't start. You can't talk either."

Rose used to have the same golden blonde color as Jasper but dyed it a dark brown two years ago. Jasper nudges my side, knowing I went too far. We know the reason _why _Rose dyed her hair, and we understood, but I don't know why she has to nag me about it when I put multi-colored streaks in my hair.

"You're right," she concedes. "I just don't know why you dye your hair. Your hair is so gorgeous without it."

"Because I _like _it. Leave it alone, please."

She glares, and I meet hers with one of my own. "What is wrong with you? You've done nothing but gripe since you walked up."

While Rose is hard on us, she's _never _this hard on us.

She sighs. "First, I ran into Lauren, and you know how well _that _turned out."

We nod. With our previous encounter and dealing with her bitchiness for the past three years, we know how vile and vicious she is. She never use to be such a bitch; in fact, for the entirety of freshman year and the first quarter of junior year, she was Rose's best friend and kind of a dork. There wasn't a day when she wasn't picked on, and Rose constantly defended her and tried to help her gain confidence in herself.

It wasn't until Royce King asked Rose out that things started to change for the worst. Jasper and I saw it, but Rose remained oblivious and told us we were seeing things. But we saw them clearly.

Lauren was jealous.

She had a crush on Royce—why, I don't know—and was positively steaming with anger and jealousy when Rose and Royce became an item. Everyone but Rose saw how Lauren flirted and touched Royce when she wasn't looking; not that things were one-sided; Royce, reciprocated ten-fold.

_It wasn't surprising though. He's a controlling asshole. I just wish it would have come out sooner._

"Then I had an encounter with _Emmett_—the big guy—at the junkyard," Rose continues, clarifying on the guy in question.

His name is said with such disgust and hatred, it makes me wonder what he did. I know he didn't treat her the way the jackass treated me; otherwise, he wouldn't be smiling. So what happened?

Jasper asks this before I can.

She huffs, leaning against the car. "Things were okay at first. He assumed I didn't know anything about cars. I corrected that right away," she says with a smirk. "Then, he made a fool of himself by bowing down to me on his knees in front of everyone!" She pauses, a hint of a smile on her lips before her face hardens again. "Then … he …" she shakes her head, looking away. "He was just obnoxious. He spoke to me like I agreed to go out with him. He didn't even ask me! Just assumed I would be going out with him, as if he's some gift to women!"

I wince, and I notice Jasper doing the same. Rose hates being told what to do, especially by the opposite sex. Emmett didn't do himself any favors by assuming she would just go out with him.

"Then, I guess he found some other willing victim as you can see." She pauses with a heavy sigh. "I just want to go home and get this day over with."

We nod and get in the car.

As we make our way toward the edge of town, we eventually come to stop at a light. Looking out of the window, I spot the jerk from earlier sitting outside of a coffee shop, his hands wrapped around a porcelain cup. Ordinarily, I would just look away and ignore him, but the look on his face and his posture have me pausing.

Instead of the anger and hostility I had seen earlier, now, there's sadness and hunched shoulders. I'm sure if I could see his eyes, they'd be filled with sorrow as well, but I can't. He's gazing down into the cup like he wants it to solve all of his problems.

_If only, dude. _

Despite his rude behavior, I can't help but wonder what has him so saddened.

_Oh, well. It's not like I'll ever find out. It's not like I'm going to see him again anyway and even if I do, I'm staying as far away from him as I can._

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**I'm not entirely too sure what my update schedule will be at the moment. Right now, I'm pushing for weekly updates every Wednesday, but that may change. If it does, I'll let you know! **

**Thank you for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for giving this story a shot! I appreciate your support so very much.**

**Big thanks to Fran for beta'ing, and to Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading. Thank you so much!**

**Any mistakes you see are my own. **

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

My night is restless, filled with a dizzying swirl of orange, gold, and a red so deep in color I'd know it anywhere.

Blood.

It pours in from every angle, spilling out of nowhere and washing over me like a tidal wave. I don't suffocate though. Instead, I'm submerged and floating weightlessly, forcing to hear the tortured cries and begging of faceless people all around me, pleading for something I don't know how to give. Underneath their cries is another voice with a deeper tenor that screams out with pain and regret lacing his apologetic words.

When the blood fades, transitioning into a bright gold—bright as the sun—the tortured faces fade into ones of happiness. However, instead of feeling happy or relieved, all I can feel is the heavy feeling of loneliness.

When I wake, my pillow is wet from tears, and my eyes are swollen, no doubt red from my crying.

The sight of my wet pillowcase invokes a feeling of rage, and I throw the item across the room, where it hits the wall with a muted thump before falling to the floor.

Why had I cried because of that stupid, nonsense dream? That hasn't happened in years; ten years, to be exact. So why now? Why because of _that _particular dream? I've had weird dreams before, but I've never felt so lost, trapped and sad because of them.

Mom's light and breezy voice carries up the stairs as she sings, probably twirling around in her own orchestra of colors. They're most likely happier than mine.

Her voice gets closer, disappearing and becoming muffled as she enters the bedroom she shares with my father. I hear him grumble, but there's no annoyance behind it; I think he likes it, even though he's not a morning person. He's happy because she is.

Downstairs, I hear Rose's voice as well, chastising Jasper for not setting his alarm so he could help her with breakfast. Knowing my room is the next stop, I quickly work through my morning routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and combing my hair. I hurriedly put on eyeliner and lipstick, staining my lips a deep grape color. After changing into my black jeans and black T with lace trim—thanks to Rose—I meet Mom just as she leaves her room.

"It's such a glorious day!" she says brightly, a radiant smile on her face as she comes twirling into the hallway, her hands outstretched above her head, her golden brown, highlighted hair hanging in waves down her back. Her normally pale skin is glowing with the new bronzer she bought last week and couldn't wait to try. Her outfit today consists of a green gypsy skirt and white tank, complete with an array of necklaces and bangle bracelets.

I grunt in acknowledgment, giving her a barely-there smile. With my weird night of dreams and the first dose of rage I felt this morning, I'm not doing so well, and school isn't going to change that. Now, all I want is to have a little bit of peace and quiet, relax, and try to shake off the residual effects of my dream. However, before I can take two steps, she grabs my hands and dances while I stand motionless, fighting off a yawn and the sassy retort on the end of my tongue. I don't want to take away her happiness; it's not her fault I'm such a crab this morning.

She pauses, smiling fondly, moving some hair behind my ears.

"Come on! It's a new day! Have some enthusiasm."

"Eh."

"Sometimes, you are your father's child," she muses, cradling my face between her hands. "He's not a morning person either. Do you know what I have to do to get him up and moving in the morning?"

"No!" I shout, taking a step back. "I will cut off my ears and pour bleach in afterward, I swear."

It's bad enough I sometimes hear them. I don't need a play-by-play from my _mother._

Since my mother took it upon herself to give us girls the dreaded sex talk a couple of years ago, I've learned things about my parents' personal lives that no child should know. Things that require brain bleach and awkward looks during meals. I don't consider myself a prude in the slightest, but I do _not _want to hear about what my parents do behind closed doors. I don't know why my mother feels the need to share these details with me, but I hope she stops.

Soon.

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "You silly girl. How do you think you got here?"

"I _know _how I got here. I just don't want to think about it."

Mom sighs in exasperation. "Don't be such a child, Bella. Sex is a very natural and wonderful experience."

"Think about everything you and Dad do," I say with a shudder, "then think about Grandmother and Grandpa doing … _that." _

Mom shakes her head, wrinkling her nose, and shuddering herself.

"Yeah, you see my point?"

"Fine, fine," she sighs. "Hey, I have a wonderful idea! Let's have a beach day! Doesn't that sound like a good idea?" Her face brightens. "It's going to be cloudy today, sure, but it's going to be a little bit warmer than yesterday. Let's go and play in the waves and let it wash away our worries. One last hurrah before school starts!"

It does sound like a wonderful idea, even though the first day of school is today. I don't think it matters, though. Mainly it's just introductions and what teachers expect. The real 'learning' won't start until next week, so I don't see why I _can't _take one more day.

"Oka—"

Dad comes out of their room while Rose comes up the steps, both with matching looks of disapproval, though Dad's holds more fondness than anything.

"Aunt Renee, it's the first day of school. We can't go to the beach."

"Is it?" Her face contorts into one of confusion. "Isn't today Sunday?"

Rose shakes her head, the loose curls framing her face swaying gently against her cheeks. "Today is Monday."

"I thought yesterday was Saturday. I could have sworn … you know, since my pottery class was canceled, I've lost track of the days."

Dad wraps an arm around her shoulders. "I know. Maybe you can teach something else?"

"Maybe. Oh! I can start an exercise class. I think that could benefit a lot of people."

Rose snorts, as do I. We both know if Mom opens an exercise class, there _might _be a little exercising going on, but mostly, it would be a bunch of women gossiping in a new location.

"That's a wonderful idea, honey," he says.

"Thank you! Now, I don't see why we can't go to the beach and enjoy the day. It's only the first day; there won't be any learning going on anyway."

I nod and murmur my agreement, crossing my fingers behind my back in hopes Mom will win this argument.

"Renee, I'm the police chief. I can't have the kids skipping the first day of school to go play at the beach."

While they argue about the harm of missing school today, Rose gently touches my shoulder, her eyes locked on my face.

"You okay?"

"Rough night."

She nods. "I heard you. I tried to wake you, but—" she trails off with a shrug, telling me her attempts were unsuccessful.

"It's fine. Thanks, though."

"Wanna talk about it?"

I consider the offer for a moment. Rose is smart; she wouldn't be graduating early this year if she wasn't. However, I don't know what any of it means, but I know it means _something. _It was too intense to be an ordinary weird dream, and until I know for sure, I don't want to mention it.

"Not right now."

A knowing and understanding look crosses her features just as Mom and Dad finish their discussion.

From the way Mom's shoulders droop, and her eyes drop to the ground, my hopes for getting another day of summer goes down too.

"Oh fine," she says, despondent. A second later, her face brightens, as does her tone. "I know! We can go to the beach this weekend! It'll be perfect!"

Rose smiles. "I think that sounds good," she tells her, wrapping her arm around Mom and leading her down the stairs. "Let's have breakfast outside too. It's such a nice morning."

Mom excitedly agrees and starts rambling about our breakfast picnic.

Dad and I both groan before dragging ourselves to join them.

Jasper stands in the doorway of his room, tilting his head to the left as he watches Rose and Mom carry dishes and food outside.

"Uh, what's going on?"

"We're having breakfast outside. Come help. You know, since you didn't help with making it like you promised me," Rose replies, breezing past him into the kitchen.

Jasper's mouth falls open as he balks at his sister. "It's too cool out...and wet! We live in _Forks_, remember?"

Rose rolls her eyes as she carries a bundle of plates, glasses, and napkins out into the backyard.

"It's still summer, Jasper, so it's not that cool, and we're not sitting on the ground. We have a picnic table." She responds as she carries the freshly cooked scrambled eggs, oatmeal, and toast outside. "Don't be such a spoil-sport. Come on, sleepyhead."

"The table is wet from the rain!"

"Which is why we have towels," Mom counters in a sing-song reply.

He starts to argue once more, but Dad places a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head with a deep sigh. "No use, son, there's no point in arguing. Trust me. Now, let's get this over with."

The three of us groan in unison as we step out into the yard, where Mom is singing very loudly and off-key while Rose sips her orange juice with a fond smile.

"Come on, guys," Rose calls when she sees us standing on the porch, and begins dishing out the food. "It's going to get cold."

After breakfast, the parents see us out, wishing us a good day and to be careful. We nod, remembering his warning clearly. It's been the same since Lauren and Royce started causing trouble three years ago.

Call him if Lauren or Royce—if he's there—start something. For the longest time, he's been itching to teach them a lesson but has never gotten the chance. There's never enough proof to have them arrested, no matter what we do to ensure they're caught. Somehow, they always make sure there are no witnesses to their deeds.

The three of us pile into Rose's car, and in under five minutes, we're pulling into the parking lot of Forks High. Students are standing around the parking lot, looking way too excited for the first day of school. My eyes scan the area, and I notice a group of students crowded around a new silver Charger.

Did a teacher get a raise or something?

"You'd think they've never seen a car before," Rose says, rolling her eyes.

I notice, however, that there's an admiring twinkle in her eye as we pass it.

Once inside, there's a low steady buzz of whispers from those loitering in the halls. Most of them look excited, their faces lit up like kids on Christmas. The remaining ones have their lips pulled down in an envious frown, barely refraining from rolling their eyes as their friends talk.

Only a handful look impartial and bored; whatever is going on that has everyone buzzing, I'm going to join the impartial crowd.

The door to the main office swings open and the space goes dead quiet.

Alice Cullen and the burly guy from yesterday—Emmett, I think is the name Rose spit out—step out into the hall, looking unaffected by the silence lingering in the air.

"Hey, everyone!" Emmett calls out, giving a cheeky smile that showcases the dimples in his cheeks. "What's shakin'?"

Everyone's eyes widen, and a few of their faces redden with embarrassment. A handful of students run down the hall, while the others laugh nervously and wave before scurrying off.

Alice elbows Emmett in the side of the stomach, causing him to wince and laugh boisterously. She hisses something to him, and he playfully rolls his eyes, his gaze landing on us—or more importantly, on Rose.

His eyes widen with glee, and his lips stretch into a broad grin. He swaggers over, his steps slow but confident.

"Well, hello. How are you this lovely day?"

Rose's eyes narrow and her upper lips curls up into a sneer. "What do you want?"

"I already have what I want."

Rose's face reddens, her jaw taunt and her nostrils flaring like she's going to breathe fire at any moment. Jasper and I take simultaneous steps backward but keep our gazes forward, ready to jump in if we're needed.

"I'm talking to you. That's all I'll ever need," Emmett continues, his smile still in place. "You're lovely."

Rose scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning her body, so she's slightly facing away from him.

Emmett, unperturbed by her rejection, looks up and notices his audience of two. He smiles, nodding his head toward us.

"I'm Emmett. This is Alice, my sister," he introduces, waving a hand toward her.

At the mention of her name, Rose tenses and relaxes, her face filled with confusion as she stares at the pair. A look of comprehension comes across her features before she schools her expression into a blank mask.

"Uh," Jasper starts his eyes darting between Rose and Emmett. "I'm Jasper. This is Bella and—"

Rose clears her throat, giving her brother a warning look and a slight shake of her head. He gets the message and smiles awkwardly, rocking on the heels of his sneakers.

Alice beams, waving with too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning, on the first day of school no less. Jasper clears his throat, giving a strained smile and a wave as he stares at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. I pinch the skin behind his upper arm and hopefully, give a friendlier wave to her.

Rose steps forward, studiously ignoring Emmett's gaze as she backs away. "I'll see you two later."

Jasper and I murmur our goodbye. My eyes narrow on the handful of people—Lauren's friends, or wannabe friends—laughing and snickering as Rose passes them.

To her credit, she doesn't acknowledge them. She keeps her head held high and her shoulders straight. I'm sure if I were to look at her face, she'd look fierce.

Too bad I'm not as strong as she is.

One step forward is all I take before Jasper places a firm hand on my arm. Without a word, he shakes his head and looks pointedly ahead.

Emmett follows after Rose, his head turning toward the gossiping loiterers. Their faces pale, and they avert their eyes, shifting from side to side until he passes. Once he's out of sight, they rush away, and I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from laughing.

Jasper's lips quirk with amusement, and he looks somewhat impressed with Emmett's silent defense of Rose. The look fades into his previous one of confusion and mistrust once he looks back at Alice.

Subtly, I nudge his side, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head once before murmuring a goodbye, disappearing into the crowd of students.

Alice frowns at his back, but the look fades as she steps closer to me. Her left hand grasps the leather strap of her book bag hanging against her hip, her fingernails scraping against the material.

"Do you think you can show me around? The map they gave me isn't very helpful."

I'm not surprised. That map has probably been around since my parents went to school here, and if the layout was the same, it would be beneficial. However, due to renovations from a fire a few years back, part of the school has been remodeled, leaving the map kind of useless.

Why they haven't updated it, I don't know. I guess they don't expect many new kids that don't know their way around the school already; even if you're not attending Forks High, you know where everything is, thanks to the building housing many town functions throughout the year.

More students filter in as the first bell of the day chimes overhead, all of them looking between Alice and me with questioning glances, whispering behind their hands, pointing and shaking their heads.

I don't need super hearing to know what they're saying.

_Poor new girl. She's going to ruin her reputation before it even begins. _

Idly, I wonder if she's the type to allow others to pressure her into things. I shrug it off; it's not any of my business, and besides, I'll know by the end of the day. I'm sure Alice will get more than enough _helpful _tips to surviving Forks High.

Taking a quick peek at the paper in my hands, I notice we don't share any classes. Alice, it appears, is one grade below me, as a junior, which surprises me greatly. At first glance, she looks to be about my age, maybe older by a year or so.

Strange. Maybe she was held back or something.

"We don't share any classes," I murmur. "You're a junior?" She nods, perplexed at my question. "I'm a senior, but I can show you where your first-period is. It's easy to find."

Alice's eyebrows furrow together, and her lips pull down in a frown. "Really? A senior? You're a senior?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah."

Her lips twist to the side, and she closes her eyes for a moment before looking at me in bewilderment. I clear my throat and shift my weight onto my left foot, putting a little more space between us as she continues to stare.

"Huh," she finally says, her voice no louder than a murmur and her words filled with confusion. "That's really weird."

Something is telling me she's speaking about something else entirely, but I can't be sure.

"I didn't think you were that old."

A bark of surprised laughter leaves me. It's the first time I've been referred to as _old. _It makes me extremely curious if I can get away with grabbing a drink in Port Angeles.

Probably not.

"I'm not that old. I'm seventeen; perfectly old enough to be a senior."

She nods and smiles, but I can still a hint of bewilderment in her eyes. Instead of asking why she seems so confused, I motion forward.

"Do you need to stop by your locker?"

Alice's nose wrinkles momentarily before she shakes her head, her short black hair bouncing lightly. "I have everything I need here."

I nod. I didn't figure she would need to stop, since it's the first day and all, but I thought I'd be polite and ask.

"I, uh … I love your hair!" Alice exclaims, smiling sheepishly at her loud tone as people passing by give her strange looks. "The colors really compliment the dark brown."

"Thanks."

"Were you scared?"

My gut instinct is to say no, but I'd be lying. I _was _pretty terrified to do something so drastic to my hair. I was so scared I was going to mess it up and almost didn't go through with the whole process. I remember feeling really down about the thought of not being different, and after a pep talk with Mom, I jumped in and did it.

Of course, the first dye job was messy, and the results weren't that good, but I didn't care. Much. With time, I improved and eventually got it the way I wanted it to look.

"Completely."

Alice laughs. "Yeah, me too. I've wanted to dye mine, but I'm not sure how it will turn out. The box is still sitting under my sink."

"Understandable," I reply, stopping abruptly as I'm nearly plowed into by a girl not paying attention.

She rushes out an apology before the words die off. She swallows audibly with a gasp. Her eyes widen, and she backs away slowly, raising her hands.

"Sor-sorry."

"No big deal," I tell her, smiling.

She chuckles nervously, her eyes darting around, looking for an escape. To help her out, I stand aside, pressing my back against the lockers. She takes the opportunity to race away, tearing down the hallway like she's on fire.

Alice turns to me, her head tilted to where our visitor had run off and an eyebrow raised in question. I shrug, plastering an innocent look on my face.

"Ready?"

Slowly, she nods, watching me intently, like I'm something to be studied. I'm sure, somewhere, doctors would agree with her.

I keep my eyes forward, intending to ignore her staring, but I can still feel her gaze and see her from the corner of my eye. The heat of irritation slivers its way through my body, engulfing me in flames from head to toe. I know people stare, especially at me.

In this school—and possibly the town—I'm somewhat of an anomaly with occasional anger issues. Still, most people look away after a certain amount of time. It's just the polite thing to do. In my opinion, you can stare, but once it goes past the minute mark, you'd be better off taking a picture.

Unable to take it anymore, I give her a pointed look. For a moment, she looks startled but sheepishly smiles.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to stare. I've never met anyone like you before."

There's something in her tone that tells me she doesn't just mean my multi-colored hair and vibrant personality, but maybe I'm reading too much into it.

I nod anyway. "I'm used to it."

Subtly, I motion toward the groups of people loitering around in the hallway, their heads bowed but their eyes peering through their lashes to stare.

"I've noticed," she murmurs. "Why is that?"

Reaching out, I pat her shoulder, frowning slightly at the cold temperature seeping through her light tan shirt. She seems really cold but doesn't look like she's freezing.

Brushing it off, I laugh. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll hear _all _about it from your classmates and how you should stay away from me."

Alice stops, her face serious. "I don't listen to rumors or silly stories about people. I make up my own mind."

I have to say I'm impressed. Normally, people in high school believe whatever the latest rumor is, truth or not. To have your own mind is somewhat unheard of during this stage in our lives.

Then again, saying things and doing them are two different things.

"What about teachers?" I ask, wanting to change the subject.

Alice giggles, covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes twinkling. "Oh man, _that _is something I listen to religiously. Did you have any of these teachers last year?"

"A couple. Most of them are pretty nice as long as you do the work. Mr. Perkins is another story altogether."

"Will you tell me about him?" She asks, her tone slightly hesitant.

I start to give her the warnings she needs, but a commotion up ahead distracts me. I watch as one of Lauren's 'friends' sticks out her foot and trips Jessica Stanley, an extremely shy girl who's always picked on because she has a stutter she can't control. To add to that, she was held back a few years ago because she had skipped so much school to escape being tormented by bullies.

I wish we had more classes together back in middle school, and I wish she had confided in me. I would have made sure no one messed with her.

Jessica lands on the floor with a loud thud, all of her books and materials spilling out. No one around her helps; they just stand back and watch or laugh.

Alice and I both surge forward, with Alice bending down and helping a teary-eyed Jessica collect her things. I level everyone around with a hard glare before landing on the girl who tripped Jessica. She swallows thickly and hastily turns the other way, running as I take a step toward her.

When the small crowd that had gathered disperses, I bend down as well, stacking Jessica's remaining books and kneeling beside her as Alice gently speaks to her.

"I'm Alice."

Jessica looks up with wide eyes, looking from Alice's face to her hand, which is outstretched in greeting. Sensing she's uncomfortable, Alice simply smiles and hands Jessica her things as I help her stand while silently asking her if she's okay. She gives one jerky nod and looks questioningly at the girl in front of us.

"Jess, this is Alice; she's new to Forks."

Alice takes this as her cue and steps forward. "Hi! Are you okay?"

"H-h-h-i," she stutters, looking down at the floor as she comes to stand behind me. She balls her free hand into a fist and squeezes it over and over, her face pinching up as she most likely, reprimands herself. In junior high, she would mutter insults at herself until I told her she was so better than she thought she was. She didn't believe me, of course, and still berated herself until I told her that if she was going to continue to talk badly about herself, then every time I would catch her doing it, I would counteract with a compliment. Now, I don't hear her talk bad about herself, but I know she still does it.

With a pointed look and a little nudge and smile, I count to ten in my head, giving her time to stop insulting herself. When I reach nine, her pinched face and clenched hands relax, though she still hunches her shoulders forward and glues her eyes to the floor.

"It's nice to meet you," Alice says genuinely. She looks somewhat surprised and awed by the interaction, but doesn't say anything.

It makes me wonder what she's thinking, though I have a pretty good guess. I may be a bitch when the time calls for it, but I _can _be nice ... sometimes.

The warning bell rings, shrill and almost deafening. Jessica runs off into a classroom, the same one Alice will be going into as well. I'm glad they'll share a class together; Alice seems like a nice girl, so hopefully, she'll help Jess when needed. If not, then Alice will have me to answer to.

"She's very shy. I don't think she'll say much more to you than that," I say to Alice.

"It's okay. I don't want to make her uncomfortable."

"As long as you don't pressure her, you'll be fine."

Alice nods, a serious expression on her face. Seeing how intently she's staring at me, I have a good feeling she's not like the other vapid girls at this school. I can't tell what makes me feel this way, but it's there.

"I have to get going," I say, knowing my time to get to class is short.

"Okay," she replies, smiling with a wave. "See you later!"

I murmur a goodbye and rush down the hall to my first-period class, skidding to a stop when I see the tall and familiar figure brooding near the door. The right side of his body leans against the wall, his head tilted. His eyes, still the same weird, orange-brownish color are fixed on me and looking closer, I see they look a little more brown than orange.

_Weird. _

"What are you doing here?" I blurt out.

"I'm here for school," he replies, his tone clearly stating "duh, why else would I be here?"

I groan slightly and drop my head back a little.

Really? In this school?

His eyebrows pull together so closely they're practically touching as he stares, looking puzzled.

Around us other students rush into the class, generating a breeze that sends a few strands of my hair into my face. I don't make a move to remove them, though. If I'm going to make any move, it'll be to flip off douche boy.

"You have this class?"

He nods once, his confused expression slipping into a blank mask.

Wonderful.

"Well, are you going to go in?" I ask, trying to sound pleasant, but I'm not sure it works. Mr. Wonderful frowns, looking extremely displeased.

"Are you? Or is this class too advanced for you?"

I narrow my eyes. "My IQ is higher than yours, I'm sure, and I _know _it's higher than the level of your social skills."

He chuckles once, the sound low and gritty. "We'll see, then. Why don't you go in first? Do you not trust me?"

"After the other day? Not really. You might stab me or something."

He shakes his head and smirks. "You don't have to worry about _that_ from me."

This time, it's me who cocks my head. What does that mean? He's going to find another way to kill me? Well, if that's the case then I'm not going down without a fight, and should I lose, I'll have the ultimate revenge. I will haunt his ass every day, and he'll never know peace.

"I'm sure," I murmur before sighing harshly, waving my hand toward the door. "Will you just go in, already? I'm tired of looking at you."

He laughs, though it's not with humor. The look in his eyes is cold and almost predatory, sending a shiver up my spine. Not even Rose's glare can frighten me this much, and she can be really scary when she wants to be.

I straighten my shoulders in an effort to show him I'm not afraid of him because I won't let him have that power over me.

"It's funny. You think you're so tough," he says, a note of condescension in his words.

I match his humorless laugh with one of my own, finally giving in to my urge and raising my middle finger.

His eyes narrow slightly, and he shoves one of his hands in his pocket, the other squeezing a dark brown leather journal, wrapped delicately with a thin black cord. Without another word or glance, he stalks into the classroom.

For a moment, I close my eyes and shake my head, cursing my luck.

How on earth had he ended up in _this _town, in _this _school?

Whatever reason, there's nothing I can do about it. I don't think. Maybe I should stop by the office and talk to the school's secretary, Mrs. Cope. If anyone can change my schedule, it's her. Until then, I had better get into the classroom.

My foot crosses the threshold just as the last bell shrills through the intercom system. The teacher frowns heavily, the action causing the lines around his mouth to deepen. His eyes narrow, his bushy eyebrows nearly concealing his eyes.

_I wasn't even late. Geez, I can see this teacher is going to be a peach. _

Plastering on a sardonic smile, I grab the only available seat left in the room, right in the front. Normally, it wouldn't be a big deal, but my desk mate is none other than the most pleasant person on earth. Slamming my binder on the desk, I collapse into the uncomfortable plastic torture device that passes for a chair, scooting it as far away from him as I can, and still be able to use the desk.

_Only an hour left. Time can't pass quickly enough. _

8*8*8*8*8

Thankfully, the rest of the morning goes quickly and peacefully. Aside from my first-period teacher who introduced himself as Mr. Reynolds—obviously not the _good _Mr. Reynolds—the teachers were pretty cool. Ms. Adams, my third-period teacher, is a little iffy, to be honest.

The entire time she lectured us on what to expect from her during the year, her face remained frozen in a stoic glare. I'm not sure if that's how she looks or whether she hates us all.

Time will tell, I suppose.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Cope couldn't switch my first-period class.

Fortunately, I don't share any other morning classes with Mr. Sparkling Personality, so that's a plus. I just have to hope I don't share any afternoon classes with him either.

In the lunchroom, I take the table that's been mine for the past three years, the detention table, and pick apart the muffin I swiped from the lunch line before it was bombarded with students. I left my novel at home, so I imagine this lunch period will be boring as hell.

Feeling eyes on me, I look up, seeing Alice grinning at me from the entrance. She comes up to the table, smiling and looking genuinely pleased for some reason.

"Hi, Bella! Wow, an empty table. How'd you manage that?"

"It was the detention table a while ago. I commandeered it."

Her face is blank for a moment, but then a second later, she bursts out in laughter. "Awesome!"

"Yep."

"May I sit here?"

I hesitate, feeling uneasy for some reason. I haven't sat with anyone at lunch since middle school, so it's definitely a change. Alice takes my silence for a refusal, laughing nervously before clearing her throat and brushing a short strand of hair behind her ear. It pops right back out, framing her petite face.

"Sorry. I'll leave you alone."

A pang of guilt hits me at her dejected tone. I've been sort of rude to her, and she hasn't done anything to me. I suppose I can't speak of other people's social skills when I need to work on my own.

"You can sit here," I call out, waving to the empty chair beside me. "If you want."

She turns around and smiles brightly, sitting in the seat with more grace than I've ever seen anyone do.

"So, how do you like your classes?"

"They're okay. I've learned it all before at my other school, though. I wonder if I can take more advanced classes or something." She pauses for a moment, her focus becoming distant before she sighs lightly. "If not, it'll be a breeze at least."

"Probably. Even if you've been here your entire life, things are a breeze. Well, for some," I amend, thinking of the few students that are dumber than paste. Lauren, for example.

Wanting to change the course of my thoughts, I think of a question, and it's a good one for getting to know someone, but before I can ask anything, she jumps up, startling me.

I look at her with wide eyes, wondering if she's had too much sugar or if there's another reason for her jerky movements.

"You okay?"

She nods, her attention focused on something or someone across the room. Following her gaze, I see _him, _actually looking pleasant and friendly standing with Emmett and Jasper.

I can't help but wonder why Jasper is with him and also looks somewhat happy to be there. Did _he _hit his head? Has he been hypnotized or drugged? I wouldn't put anything past anyone these days.

"Um, I'll be right back, okay? I need to go see my brothers."

Nodding, I watch as she glides across the cafeteria, rushing toward the jerk. To my surprise, she latches onto his arm, beaming up at him.

_Is he her brother? Did she say, brother or brothers?_

Looking down at her, he gives a small smile and squeezes her to his side. She hugs him back fiercely before pulling back and punching his shoulder.

Jasper steps back, saying something before looking over the cafeteria, smirking when he sees where I am. Seconds later, he joins me, claiming Alice's seat.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

"Because you're simple."

"Har har," he says, his tone droll. "How's school?"

"Same as last year. Boring."

He nods, his blond hair flopping in front of his face. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I see you have new friends," I say, nodding toward the trio still by the entrance of the cafeteria, standing in a loose circle.

Multiple students are staring and pointing, no doubt rehashing the gossip they heard about the family over the summer and talking about how good looking they all are; something I've heard in all of my classes.

"Yeah. They're pretty cool. I share a class with Edward, but none with Emmett. He's a junior; can you believe it?" He seems astonished and perplexed, though I have to admit I am too. Emmett, like Alice, looks too old to be a junior.

"Maybe he was held back."

Jasper hums. "Maybe."

"What was the other one's name again?"

"Edward."

I nod, finally putting a name to the face. Although, I kind of like the names I've given him so far. They certainly fit his personality better. Edward sounds regal and formal … and someone with manners. Something he doesn't have. At least not with me.

"He's your friend, then?"

Jasper shrugs, his lips pulled down slightly. "I don't know. He's cool, though. Why?"

I scoff, shaking my head as I glance back over at the person in question. So is he pleasant with people other than me?

_Should I be flattered or insulted? _

I think I'll go with flattered. One thing I've learned is it takes a special kind of person to piss someone off, and I'd like to think I'm that person.

"That's good, I guess."

"Why do you say that?"

"Do you think they're all related?" I ask, nodding toward the trio.

"Uh, yeah." He shifts in the chair, his eyes darting between the table and the group. "Alice is their little sister. Why?"

I start to answer but stop as Alice comes up, her eyes darting between Jasper and me, chewing the inside of her lip.

"Hi," she greets, smiling at Jasper.

He swallows audibly, running his hands over his thighs before standing. "Hey," he replies, looking at her for a moment before looking at me. "I better get some lunch. See ya later."

Like this morning, Alice frowns at Jasper's back, and I wonder if she's used to guys hanging on her every word. I'm not ashamed to admit that Alice _is_ cute and with the way most guys are talking about her, it's safe to say they share those thoughts.

I just have to wonder if Jasper's lack of attention is getting to her.

"Ignore him," I say. "He's awkward."

Her lips are thin and white, pressed together firmly. She takes the previous seat she had, breathing deeply. "How do you know him?"

"He's my cousin."

She blinks, her eyes wide. "Really? You don't … you look so different."

I laugh. "Yeah, I know. My aunt was adopted by my grandparents."

Alice's mouth forms the shape of an 'O' as she nods. "Gotcha. What's his deal? I mean, why is he awkward? Is he shy? Or is it just me?"

I eye her skeptically. Is that why she's sitting with me? Because she's interested in Jasper? Never mind, I _know _she's interested in Jasper. She looks at him all starry-eyed as if she's expecting him to ask her out upon first glance.

Does she think being nice and talking to me will get her in with him? If that's the case, then she better look for another route. I won't be used like that, or get in the middle.

"He likes to keep to himself most of the time. He doesn't trust people easily."

"Huh. Tell me about him."

The bell rings signaling the end of lunch. I rise, taking my trash and tossing it into the can near the table.

"Nice seeing you. Bye."

I head toward the entrance, hearing her call out behind me but I don't look back, heading to my next class.

Chemistry.

_That should be a fun one. Now, please, for love of Edgar Allen Poe, don't let me share any more classes with Edward. Do you hear me, universe? _

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Luck is not on my side.

I share two more classes with Edward: Chemistry and gym.

Fortunately, I don't have to sit by him in either class. I'm on one side of the room while he's on the other, which makes it a lot easier to ignore his existence. It's not as good as being in different classes, but it's a start.

To make matters even worse for me, two of my classes have hard-ass teachers that already gave us assignments due at the end of the week.

Who in the hell gives out essay assignments on the first day of school?

Assholes, that's who.

I take a deep breath, but it doesn't calm me. I need to relax. Otherwise, I'll have a stroke or something. Sadly, the only things that help me relax are movies, the museum, drawing or music.

Thinking of it, a trip to the museum sounds like a good idea. A couple of hours there and I'll be pleasant.

Almost.

Slamming my locker closed, I head toward the parking but nearly fall on my face as Lauren sticks her foot out with a smirk.

"Whoops. Accident."

"Weren't those the first words you heard when you were born?"

She sneers, her face screwing up unattractively. "Drop dead."

"Nice original insult! I'll be in therapy for _years_."

Storming past her, my eyes solely focused on the glass doors overlooking the parking lot. Just a few more feet and I'll be home free.

"Let's go, Alice," I hear from my left, the voice tense and angry. "We need to have a family meeting."

Looking over, I see Alice and Edward in an odd standoff.

Edward's jaw is tightened; I'm surprised his teeth haven't cracked under the pressure. His hands are balled into fists at his side, clenching and straightening out every few seconds. His eyes are black and hard, glaring at his sister with extreme anger. I'm a little scared for Alice, but after taking a quick look at her, I see she's not worried, so I suppose I shouldn't be either.

"You know what Mom and Dad are going to say. We might as well skip it."

"Alice," he grinds out through clenched teeth.

"Fine, fine. Let's go."

I rush out the door and toward Rose's car before they spot me, jumping in the backseat. Rose turns, raising an eyebrow.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing. In a hurry to leave. It's been somewhat of a shitty day."

"You too?" I nod. "What happened?"

"Quite a bit. The icing on the cake? Homework from two teachers," I seethe.

A knowing expression crossed her face. "Mr. Bertie and Mrs. Wells?"

I nod.

"I got them too. Asses," she mutters. "What—?"

Looking out the windshield, I see Jasper talking with Edward and Emmett, looking happy as he talks about something, gesturing wildly.

Alice stands in the background, watching him. When he looks her way, she looks away, stepping aside and walking through the crowd, scanning the parking lot. She frowns and leans against a silver car, glancing over the space again.

Her eyes meet mine, and she waves with a grin. I debate on whether or not I should return the gesture, but do it anyway. No need to be rude until it's warranted.

"Friends?"

"Too soon to tell," I reply.

"Hmm. I surmise Jasper is friends with the Cullen brothers, then?"

"Guess so. When I saw him at lunch, he said they were cool. Speaking of … why did you skip lunch?"

She shrugs, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. "I didn't feel like going. Emmett was outside four of my classes, telling me his life story. Like I want to know." She scoffs.

_That explains how she knows they're brothers. _

"Aw, that's cute," I tease. "He wants you to know him."

Again, she scoffs. "Like I want to after what happened? How he spoke to me? Please. I just want to go home."

"Oh, yeah, when we get there, leave the car running. I'm going to PA."

"For what?" she questions, looking at me over her shoulder. "You have homework,"

"It's not due until the end of the week." I shrug. "I want to decompress for a bit."

"Bella, it's a school night."

"It's still early." I point to the clock. "It's only two forty-five. I'll spend an hour or so in PA and come back in time for dinner."

"It's an hour both ways."

"So? It'll be just after six when I come back. Perfectly fine."

She shakes her head once, strands of hair bouncing off her cheeks. "I don't think so."

Sighing heavily, I whip out my phone, sending a text to the parents, asking if me going to PA is okay. I'm honest with them and tell them I have homework, but it's not due until the end of the week.

A minute later, they reply.

_**Homework? On the first day? That's evil. But yeah, as long as you have it done when it's due, that's fine. Be safe. You know this, but I'll tell you anyway; don't go in alleyways or take shortcuts. Stay on the main road, in plain view. Don't go with people you don't know. If you hear/see anything suspicious, call the police ASAP. Have your phone IN HAND. Have fun and be back in time for dinner. I'm cooking tonight. ~Dad **_

His response makes me wonder if he knows about the missing people in the city. It certainly sounds like it, but wouldn't he say something if he did know? Is he just being cautious? Either way, I'll be safe. I'm sarcastic, not stupid.

Mom's reply is more straightforward and less wordy.

_**Have fun, baby! ~Mom**_

I show Rose my phone. "It's fine with the parental units. I'm going."

"You need to keep up with your schoolwork."

I rub a hand over the top of her head, laughing as she bats my hands away with a scowl. "You forget. I'm not trying to graduate early. I can take the easy street."

"Nevertheless, you should always try your best."

I roll my eyes but say nothing, knowing it won't do any good. She believes in her way, and I believe in mine. Nothing will change her mind.

"Hey," Jasper greets, jumping in the car and waving goodbye to the Cullen boys, which makes Rose huff as she pulls out of the lot, the tires squealing on the pavement. Jasper and I are jolted in the seats; I don't know about him, but I feel like my insides are trying to escape through my back.

"Are we going _Back to the Future_?"

"What?" she questions, looking at me through the rearview mirror, confused as Jasper guffaws.

"You're taking off at lightning speed. I thought we were in a time machine."

Rose softly curses, easing her foot off the gas pedal. "Sorry. I just want to go home and get this crap-tastic day over with."

"I hear ya."

"So," Jasper drawls. "I take it everyone had a great day? You two wanna talk about it?"

"No," Rose and I both say at the same time. Obviously, neither one of us is having any luck with the Cullen boys, nor do I think it's going to get any better.

8*8*8*8*8*8

In Port Angeles, I stride down the sidewalk, inspired and ready to be home. My fingers twitch at my sides, desperate to feel the smooth wood of the pencil between my fingers.

Being at the museum really gave my muse a much-needed energy drink, and I want to get my ideas all out on paper before they disappear.

Hopefully, the hour between here and home won't banish them.

Just as I pass the entry of an apartment building, I run smack dab into someone. In an effort not to fall, I grab onto the person and shiver as they grasp my hips, pulling me closer to them. A pleasurable chill races through me, jolting my heart into overdrive.

_Whoa. That's an intense feeling. _

I laugh, an apology slipping from my lips that soon dies as I look at who's holding me. Pushing away, I narrow my eyes.

"You!"

"I see your observation skills haven't improved," Edward snipes. "Can't you watch where you're going?"

My hands clench into fists, and I bite my tongue to keep in all the foul names swimming through my mind.

_Why can't I catch a break today?_

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! **

**Many thanks to Fran for Beta'ing (any mistakes you see are my own!) **

**Huge thanks also go to Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading. Go check out their fics! **

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

Reminiscent of our first encounter, we stand in a showdown, glaring at each other like we're in some cheesy western my father loves so much.

If we were in one of those movies, I imagine Edward's hands would be twitching at his sides, ready to grab his gun and shoot me dead, all the while saying _this town isn't big enough for the both of us_ … in an exaggerated southern drawl, of course.

At this image, I can't help but laugh.

Edward stands straighter, his jaw jutting forward defiantly as he clenches his teeth, his lips pressed into a line so thin they almost disappear.

"What's so funny?" He grinds out.

"Nothing," I reply, matching his tone.

"Sure it is. Just keep your remarks to yourself if they're nothing."

_Is he _ever _pleasant? _

"Oh, yeah?" I state, stepping closer to him. He exhales heavily, taking a step backward until his back is against the steel-looking exterior. I step as close as I can, leaving no room between us and poke his hard chest with each word. "Why don't you take your own advice?"

Instead of cringing away like I thought he would, he leans forward, his head tilting toward me. My hand gets trapped between us, and I flatten it against his chest, so I don't hurt myself.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going."

I roll my eyes, trying to refocus my gaze on something other than his face.

"This argument again? Listen, it was an _accident, _okay? It wasn't done intentionally. Plus, I did apologize. Both times, actually. Something _you _haven't done, you jerk. Now, I don't know what your problem is, but _back off,_" I seethe.

He swallows audibly, and a pained expression comes over his face as he opens his mouth to speak.

"Hey, take that inside! There are kids out here," someone scolds.

Jerking my head to the right, I see an older man staring at us disapprovingly, shaking his head once before moving along. I'm sure he's probably lamenting my generation and how we're all wild, uncouth, and heathens, just as my grandmother Beth does.

I look back at the position I'm in, noting how close Edward and I are; my hand on his chest and our faces so close together our noses are practically touching.

Glancing to my left, I see we're in front of an apartment building.

_Meadows at Twilight Apartments. _

The meaning of the man's words, the position I'm currently in with _him _and the building we're standing in front of clicks in my head.

_Oh, hell no! _

Jumping back, I clear my throat, unnecessarily straighten my clothes, and narrow my eyes at the humor on his face.

Having enough of _this interaction _for one day, I attempt to walk past him, but he takes that exact moment to move as well, and we run into one another again. With matching glares, we attempt to walk once more, but end up with the same results.

"Stop it!"

"Oh yeah, I'm doing this on purpose. I just can't get enough of you!" I retort sarcastically, resisting the urge to flip him off yet again.

His eyes narrow slightly, the strange orange color burns bright, standing apart from the brown. It's an amazing color if I'm being honest; deep brown with multiple flecks of orange lava ready to burst.

Clearing my throat and purposely looking away, I focus on his eyebrows instead, meeting his glare with one of my own. He takes a step back, waving his arm for me to go forward.

"Go."

"You're such a gentleman. Don't use those manners too much or women everywhere will swoon!"

Marching away from him, I lose myself in the crowd, and when I look back, I'm satisfied to see he's completely obscured from my view.

_Good. Who does he think he is, talking to me as if I'm a dog? I may be a bitch, but I'm _not _a dog you give orders to. _

Muttered curses escape me as my irritation transfers from Edward to the people surrounding me, bumping into me without a second glance or an apology. It's not surprising; their cell phones are glued to their hands or ears, shooting off texts or shouting out orders to some poor chump.

Up ahead a few feet, I spot someone standing still as a statue in a sea of movement. He stands tall and confident, his hair hanging in dreadlocks down his back and over his shoulders. His light brown, leather coat gleams brightly against the yellow fluorescent streetlight, putting a spotlight on him.

My feet slow down a bit, hoping to catch a better look at the guy, but as a wave of people make their way across the street, I lose sight of him.

Shaking my head, I continue on.

Even though Edward is a complete dick, he's right on one account. I do need to be more vigilant, so I take extra care to observe my surroundings instead of being lost in my head. There's time for that later.

As I push myself through the crowded sidewalk, the skin on the back of my neck tightens with a sharp prickling sensation. I resist the urge to bring my hand up and rub at the skin; I won't show weakness.

Grasping my phone in a tight grip in one hand, I place the keys in between my knuckles in the other as I hurry to the parking garage. I'm glad I decided to park here, where there are security guards and a parking attendant. It's well worth the five dollars, in my opinion.

Locating Rose's car, I get inside and lock the doors immediately, looking in the rearview mirror, trying to see if anyone had followed me in, but there's no one.

My cell phone, still in hand, vibrates violently, the screen illuminating the shadowed interior of the car. Rose's name, along with a picture of the two of us from Mom's birthday dinner last month shines on the screen. Our faces are pressed close together, wearing matching goofy grins as Mom stands behind us, her chin resting on top of our heads.

I smile, sliding my finger across the green phone icon.

"Hello?"

"Are you okay?" She questions before I can get the word out, her voice laced with concern.

"Yeah. Why?"

She blows out a small, slow breath. "Nothing, nothing." She laughs lightly. "I just had a bad feeling, that's all."

Idly, I wonder if she's psychic; after all, what are the chances she gets a weird feeling just as I run into Edward again?

For a moment, I debate mentioning my encounter but decide against it. She'll just want to fight him, and I don't want that. I can take care of my own problems. Besides, either way—win or lose—I'll still win. No matter how things end, I obviously piss him off in a big way, so I'll be in his head every day. In my eyes, it's a victory all around.

"I'm fine. On my way home, actually."

"You're not driving now, are you?"

From her tone, I know she's frowning at the thought, but I ease her worries.

"No. I'm sitting in the parking garage. I was about to leave when you called."

"Okay. Hurry, but be safe. Uncle Charlie's dinner smells so good. I think my stomach is going to eat itself if I have to wait any longer."

"That would be a mess," I remark with a fake grimace. "Not to mention painful. Would you cough up blood? I think you would cough up blood. Or _something _at least. Can you imagine? It would be seen from _The Exorcist, _but red and chunkier_._"

"Ugh, that's disgusting. Where do you get these ideas?" Before I can answer, she continues. "Never mind. I think those horror movies are rotting your brain," she mumbles. "Be safe."

I murmur a goodbye and back out of the parking space, heading toward the highway that will take me back home.

Coming to a stop at the red light, I glance over as a car slowly pulls up next to me.

Groaning, I bang my head against the headrest. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward turn in my direction, the skin of his knuckles turning snow-white as he grips the steering wheel. I keep my head firmly forward and fully intend to slam my foot on the gas as soon as the light turns green.

Apparently, Edward has the same thought; before I can move my foot, Edward's sleek, black, Volvo S90 takes off, turning right instead of going straight. The tires squeal harshly against the pavement, leaving dark trails against the asphalt.

_Good. I didn't want to share the road with you while I went home anyway. With my luck, you'd follow me to my house and hack me into little pieces … or kidnap me and torture me for years, rendering me insane. Well, newsflash! I'm probably already there! _

Shaking my head to clear my wacky thoughts, I head onto the highway, cursing the person who claimed the world being small was a good thing. I'm not sure who it was or if they even _did _make such a claim, but I'm sure someone did, and I curse them for it.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

The energy in the hall changes from sluggish lethargy to tense excitement. The ten or so people loitering in the halls bitching about their teachers come to a standstill, stiff and quiet as the Cullens waltz in from the parking lot.

Emmett leads the trio, smiling and waving at those who stare too long. There's a twinkle in his eye as people gasp, caught off guard by his acknowledgment. I have no doubts he's enjoying the discomfort he gives them.

Alice is a step behind him, her eyes briefly gazing over the groups of students staring and whispering as the three of them pass. Her eyes land on Jasper and me standing at our lockers as we make the small spaces our own.

She moves to Emmett's other side, so she's closer to us, a bright smile on her face.

Jasper gives a tense smile, focusing his attention on putting the finishing touches on his locker. I watch as Alice's expression falters slightly before she glances at me and waves.

I limply wave back, trying my best not to look at the third person in the back of their group, lingering behind, looking like he's not sure whether he'd be welcome.

It makes me extremely curious; does he feel like he wouldn't be welcome or is that of his own doing? Based on what I've seen, I'm going with the latter; if Alice didn't want him around, she wouldn't have been looking for him in PA the other day. Thinking back to yesterday, I think the same would apply to Emmett. He looked thrilled talking to Jasper and Edward; if they weren't brothers, I would have thought he was in love with the dude.

_If they weren't related, Emmett could do better. _

Before I can look away, I meet Edward's eyes, which instantly narrow upon seeing me. I roll my own and turn away, not wanting to have anything to do with him at the moment.

I busy myself with putting the finishing touches on my locker, organizing everything to my tastes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alice step up toward Jasper, a soft smile on her face. There's a brief moment of awkward silence as the pair exchange stilted hellos.

"How was your day yesterday?"

"Oh, uh … it was … nice?" he replies, sounding more like a question as he shuffles from left to right, his eyes darting from Alice to anything and everything within a five-foot radius.

Realizing how awkward he sounds, he attempts to correct himself, clearing his throat. "I mean, it was fine. Mainly, it was overviews about the year to come, expectations and such." He rolls his eyes at the absurdity of it, knowing what the teachers said won't be remembered past today.

"Yeah, it's the same speeches everywhere. I think it's a guide all teachers get or something." She laughs softly and Jasper nods, his eyes falling to the floor.

Most likely sensing the uneasiness of the situation, Emmett jumps in and introduces himself, though I know his name.

"I'm Emmett."

"Bella."

He smirks, leaning toward me. It doesn't escape my notice that Edward is glaring at his brother like he wishes he could burn him alive.

"So, _you're _the one who has my brother's panties in a twist, huh?" He quietly remarks.

_Did they have a meeting about me or something? _

"_Panties, _huh? Tell him to switch to boxers ... might put him in a better mood."

Emmett laughs, nudging an irate Edward with his elbow, murmuring something to him. Whatever he says doesn't help his attitude, if there is such a thing.

Jasper, most likely sensing the tension, changes the subject again and questions Emmett and Edward about their favorite video games while I block the conversation out and focus on the task at hand.

A second later, there's a delicate tap on my shoulder; if I hadn't been paying attention, I would have assumed it was my clothes rustling or a muscle spasm.

Alice hesitantly smiles, her hands gripping the strap of her book bag as she steps closer to me. "Hi, Bella."

Behind her, Emmett and Edward watch the exchange carefully, but the former smiles when he catches me looking. Edward pointedly looks away, his jaw clenched and his face twisted in a scowl.

"Hey. How are you?" I question, hoping my tone is polite enough.

"I'm good, thank you," she says, looking relieved.

We lapse into a tense silence, each of us looking expectantly at each other. The air is filled with excited chatter from Emmett and Jasper, and surprisingly, Edward as well, as they discuss their favorite games. I do a double-take as Edward absorbs himself into the conversation.

I'm completely baffled at the change in his appearance. The tightness in his shoulders and the tension in his jaw is gone, his body somewhat relaxed. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and his shoulders are slightly hunched inward, but his face is bright and boyish-looking.

It's a massive change from the slight serial killer vibe he had been radiating.

I want to be upset that Jasper seems to be getting along with them—especially Edward—but I can't. It wouldn't be right for me to dictate who he can and can't be friends with. If he gets along with _him, _then that's great. I don't have to spend time with him.

_Thank the heavens for small favors. _

Inevitably, my name is brought up, and the attention is on me. Emmett and Edward stare at me with wide eyes, though Edward looks away as soon as he realizes I've been brought into the conversation.

"What? Jasper, what did you spill?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

He smirks. "Nothing. I just told them you beat me on _Zombie Outbreak._"

I blow out a breath, wondering why Edward and Emmett seem so surprised. Do they think girls don't play video games?

"Yeah, I did. _Twice,_" I say, chuckling lightly at his scowl.

"Beginners luck," he mutters.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

He mumbles something else too low for me to hear and I decide to make my exit. I bid my goodbyes to Jasper, but it's Emmett who answers.

"Bye, Bella. Have a good day."

With a laugh, I wave back and head toward my first class, dreading the fact I'll be in the same room with Edward.

_Oh well. At least I can ignore him. _

"Bella!"

Turning, I see Alice sprinting toward me, her book bag bouncing against the top of her thigh. Once she's close enough, she walks slowly, her hand grasping the strap hanging off her shoulder.

Smiling shyly, she clears her throat delicately, her body slightly swaying from side to side as her fingers twitch.

"Can I walk with you? My class is on the way."

I nod. "Sure."

We walk in silence, and I ignore the stares and whispers from the people we pass, and it seems Alice does as well. For now, anyway.

"What do you like to do for fun?" She questions.

I shrug a shoulder. "Nothing exciting. I like to read, watch horror movies … I do a little dabbling in art. Nothing serious or good, for that matter."

"I love horror movies too! Plus, I _love _art. I love photography; I take pictures."

"Cool. We'll have to discuss our favorite movies, then."

Her eyes light up at my answer, and she nods.

"That would be fun. Also, if you wanted, I could show you my pictures."

I say nothing, but I nod, wondering if my first impression of her was wrong. She seems to genuinely want to hang out and possibly be friends. It's too soon to tell, though.

We come to a stop outside the class she went into yesterday, and I smile politely, saying hello to Jess as she shuffles past me.

"H-hi, B-Bella," she greets with a smile and a wave.

As she looks at Alice, her smile falters a bit, and she freezes, her eyes wide.

"S-s-speak, Jessica," Lauren taunts from behind me. "It's r-r-rude to i-ignore p-p-people."

Jessica's eyes cloud over with tears, and she bites the inside of her lip to keep herself from crying.

I spin around, narrowing my eyes at Lauren. "How was your visit to the free clinic? Did you get that anti-herpes medication you needed?"

Students snicker as her face turns red. "Oh yeah? Well, at least I have one hair color and don't look like a rainbow freak."

"What a stellar comeback!" I exclaim in an exaggerated tone, clapping my hands slowly. "Go screw yourself; you know, to give the guys a break. But be sure to come back when you have a real insult."

She opens her mouth to say something else, but I raise an eyebrow in response and watch with humor as she stomps away, glaring at anyone who laughs.

Alice is gently speaking to Jessica, who is huddled against the wall, clutching her books to her chest. Jess is listening though; I can see her eyes briefly flit over to Alice more than once while she's consoling her.

"Can I have a moment with her, Alice?"

"Sure," she murmurs with a soft smile, waving goodbye as she heads inside just as the warning bell rings overhead.

I lean against the wall Jess is huddled against, gently bumping my shoulder against hers.

"Hey." I wait until she looks at me, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Don't let it bother you, Jess. You're more than she'll ever be."

"I d-d-don't kn-kn-know about th-that."

"I do. Have I lied to you? Ever? I mean, I may have exaggerated about being a badass super-villain, but really, all I'm missing is a kick-ass costume and some money for the gadgets." She shakes her head, a small smile on her face. "Then why would I start now?"

"Th-th-thanks, B-B-Bella."

"No problem, Jess. No more tears, okay? She's not worth it."

"O-okay."

"I'll see ya."

Pushing myself off the wall, I come to a halt as I spot Edward standing a few feet ahead, staring at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What?"

He does a combination of a head shake and a shrug of his shoulders, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Nothing. It's just … funny."

I don't ask _what _he finds funny. Instead, I give him a sarcastic laugh, and spotting the teacher casually watching us, I scratch my forehead with my middle finger and walk in without another word.

I can't be sure, but I could _swear _I heard Edward laugh.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

"Hey, loser."

"You got me, Lauren. That really hurt. I don't know how I'll ever recover," I retort, walking past Lauren without glancing in her direction.

Out of nowhere, an arm blocks my path, and I jump back to avoid contact. Luckily I did, as Royce King stands in front of me, a slimy grin on his face.

"Hey there."

I make a noise of disgust and attempt to walk around him, but he steps in front of me, blocking my exit.

"That isn't very nice," he tells me, sucking air through his teeth with a sad shake of his head. He reaches forward to touch a strand of my hair, but I dodge him quickly with a disgusted look. "You know, I'm beginning to think you have a problem with Lauren and me."

I laugh shortly. "Lauren come crying to you again? I'd tell her to borrow your balls, but I know you don't have any. Now move." I try to step around him, but he counters my move with one of his own, blocking my way.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

"As much as I want an ice pick in my eye."

"You're feisty," he says with a chuckle. "Just like Rosie."

I grit my teeth and ball my hand into a fist, ready to punch it in his face. I can get away with it, too. The hallway is empty, so there are no witnesses, not that it matters. I've already punched and junk kicked him before and gotten away with it, so I can get away with it again.

He chuckles. "Struck a nerve, did I? Lauren did say that was the quickest way to light your fuse, but I'd like to try another way." He leers, and I swallow back the bile threatening to rise.

"You sure I'd be able to feel it?"

He takes a step toward me, but I anticipate this and jump to the side, watching as he stumbles and falls to the floor in a heap.

I bite my lip to hold in my laughter, watching as he attempts to rise from the ground with almost, drunk-like movements.

Rose turns the corner, raising an eyebrow at the scene in front of me, her face turning to stone as Royce rises, brushing his hands down his front.

"Well, hello, my Rosie."

She sneers, saying nothing as she comes to stand next to me.

"You know," he says conversationally, eying both of us with a gleam in his eye. "I've never been with cousins before. I'd _love _to compare." He not so subtly adjusts himself, and I surmise it's nothing larger than a tube of lipstick. _If _he's lucky.

Rose sneers in disgust and looks as if she's about to throw up. I'm not that far behind her, to be honest.

Royce clicks his tongue against the roof his mouth. "Such a nasty expression on a pretty face," he coos, reaching forward and grabbing a lock of her hair. She bats his hand away with a glare and takes a step back, pulling me along with her.

"So rude," he says, slowly shaking his head, a look of disappointment on his face. "I thought you learned your lesson. Or perhaps, it's been too long, Rosie? Don't worry, you'll get a refresher course. I'll show both of you."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rose's tough demeanor crack a little; subtly, she flinches, her eyes glazed and far away as thinks back to that night in freshman year.

It was supposed to be a date, though not one of us Swans or Whitlocks would call it that now. None of us liked Royce, and we weren't fooled by his wide, white smile, nor were we fooled by his 'manners.' We all knew he was a slime, and nothing we said would make Rose see reason; she saw the charm and the show he put on. She didn't see the subtle ways he used to control her; the phone calls at all hours of the night, the visits to our house 'just to see her,' or the way he would manipulate her when she wanted to do her own thing.

The more we tried to get her to see what a dirtbag he was, the more she pushed back, determined to prove us wrong.

That night, he had decided they needed to take their relationship to the next level. Being the pig that he was, he brought her to First Beach after dinner— which Rose paid for—and took her to a secluded spot near the woods where most teenagers go to make out.

When he went farther than what Rose was willing to go, he tried to force himself on her. Luckily, Sam Uley, from the Quileute Reservation, was close by and heard her screams, coming to her rescue, and beating the crap out of him before helping her home.

I'll never forget her bruised and tear-stained face as she held her ripped shirt together while rushing into the house and locking herself in her room. For hours, Mom tried to get her to open the door, crying along with her as Rose sobbed behind the door. Dad, having been told what occurred from Sam, had turned an odd shade of purple as he started for his gun, only to be stopped by Sam's firm hand. Whatever he said to him had calmed him somewhat, but it wasn't enough then, and the scars he received from Sam's fists aren't enough now.

Unfortunately, the paperwork for the case Dad was building against him mysteriously 'disappeared,' pissing Dad off to no end. We all know Royce and his father's connections to the mayor had something to do with it, but it could never be proven. Now, it's simply a waiting game for him to screw up and let karma bite him on the ass.

Rose's flinch stirs my anger; heat slithers up my spine and my entire body trembles. Stepping forward, I ball up my fist, punching him square in the nose, hearing a loud crack as I make contact. Immediately, he cups his hands to catch the blood pouring out of his nostrils and looks at me in shock.

"Yes," I whisper with an evil smile on my face. "There's blood … so much blood," I say gleefully, and Royce's eyes widen with alarm.

"You bitch! I'll end you for this," he hisses, rising to his feet.

He backs away slowly but runs into Emmett who rounds the corner, clapping a hand down on Royce's shoulder.

Ordinarily, it would look like a friendly gesture, but the buckle in Royce's knees and the glare on Emmett's face tell a different story.

"Whoa, there; what was that? Why are you threatening this lady for no reason?"

"Wha-what?"

"You took quite a spill there," Emmett continues. "And you're threatening her? Doesn't make sense."

"I didn't—"

"Now, now, don't be embarrassed," he interrupts. "We all saw you fall."

Royce's scoff turns into a whimper as Emmett tightens his grip on his shoulder, his knees, once more buckling under the pressure.

"Unless, of course, you were _bothering _these ladies. Then it would be self-defense if she hit you and you'd have to tell people what happened and what was said. So tell me, which is it? An accident? Or were these ladies merely protecting themselves?"

"Accident," Royce grits out through clenched teeth.

"Then you best be careful," Emmett warns. "You wouldn't want another _accident _to happen, would you?"

Royce shakes his head, and Emmett releases his hold, smirking as he staggers back, putting as much space between them as possible before sprinting down the hall.

"How are you two today?" Emmett questions. Even though the inquiry is for both of us, his eyes are fixated worriedly on Rose.

Rose stares at him, her eyebrows pulled together, and her lips turned down in confusion. She looks as if she's never seen him before, which is confusing as hell.

It's obvious she isn't going to answer, so I decide to do it for her. "We're good. Thanks."

Emmett nods, eyes still on Rose. "You look beautiful today, Rosalie."

Her eyes flick over to him and focus back on her nails. "Thanks," she says dryly.

"Can I escort you to lunch? A pretty woman like you should walk with someone gallant," he says with a wink.

"I'll pass," she replies, her tone cold. However, I can see a spark of something in her eye. Is she … _impressed? _

He shrugs, unperturbed, as always, by her refusal, and gives her a big grin. "One day, Rosalie. One day."

With those parting words, he walks into the cafeteria and Rose groans loudly, her head falling back.

"He can't seem to take a hint. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Hmm?" She questions distractedly. "No. I'll be okay." Then, she changes the subject. "You know, Royce could have you arrested for that stunt you pulled," Rose says, trying to sound stern, but it's negated by her smile.

"For what? Hitting himself? You heard him, it was an _accident,_" I smirk when she nods.

"I think you talking to yourself frightened him more than a girl half his size possibly breaking his nose," she muses.

"I wasn't talking to myself. I was talking to the voices in my head. Why does no one believe me when I tell them I hear voices? It's not my problem you can't hear them."

Rose shakes her head in amusement but then groans when she peers through the window of the cafeteria door and sees Emmett sitting at the table she normally occupies during lunch.

"You're looking awfully thoughtful over there," I say, breaking out of her musings.

She jumps and gives me a nervous smile. "Yeah. It's nothing. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Later."

Since my locker is close by, I decide to grab the books I'll need for my afternoon classes because I know I won't have time to eat lunch _and_ get my books after I'm done eating.

_Thanks, Royce. You slime-ball._

Unfortunately, I pass by Edward, who is standing by his locker. I plan on carrying on my way, not giving him another glance, but another student comes barreling by, hitting my shoulder and subsequently knocking me into Edward. Instinctively, his hands reach to steady me and pull me close to him as the student shouts his apologies as he runs further down the hall.

Edward's hands grip my hips, holding me to his front, where I feel _exactly _what the girls _wish _they could feel; he's fit and toned, but there's a strange coldness emanating from him, just like I remember.

I expect him to release me at any moment, but to my surprise, he keeps his eyes and hands on me, making no move to let me go.

In fact, his hands move down slightly, his fingers coming into contact with the sliver of skin between my shirt and jeans.

The chilly touch makes me shiver, which brings me even closer to him. As if on reflex, he tightens his hold and breathes in deeply, beginning to speak, but his eyes squeeze shut, and he shakes his head, groaning as another student comes running down the hall.

I immediately recognize him—Austin Marks—another jock and one of Royce's friends. His eyes widen when he sees how close Edward and I are standing together and he laughs loudly.

"Wow, dude. You must be desperate. You know, there's a queue of girls you can use to get your rocks off, right? Lucky bastard."

I start to retort, but Edward surprises me.

"I wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot pole. _Get lost,_" he says, growling the last two words.

The look of rage on his face makes _me _a tiny bit of afraid; there's something lethal and dangerous in that glare … almost predatory in a certain way. Despite the small sliver of fear, I also feel a greater sense of satisfaction for him saying such a thing about me.

_Weird. Where did that come from? _

Austin swallows thickly, backing up and running in the opposite direction as fast as his legs can take him. I turn back to Edward, who looks a bit calmer. I begin to tell him he didn't have to defend me, but as the first word leaves my lips, he tightly grasps my hips, pulling me even farther into him. Pain flares and my flesh starts to throb. I push at his arms and wince as his grip tightens even further before he shoves me away. He takes a huge step back, his jaw clenched as he breathes heavily.

"Are you always such a jackass?" I grumble, all thoughts of satisfaction over his actions gone. "And you know, you've pushed me a couple of times, asshole. If I wanted to be manhandled, I'd ask."

"Maybe you should watch what you're doing," he snaps.

"He bumped into _me, _remember? You didn't have to catch _or_ manhandle me. You could have just let me fall on my ass. In fact, I would have preferred it."

_Okay, maybe not. I mean that one moment wasn't too bad. Not that I'll admit it._

Edward sighs harshly, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I'm … I'm _sorry_,_" _he rushes out.

He takes off toward the exit and not more than a second later the door to the parking lot slams shut, causing me to jump.

Through the tiny window on the door, I see his figure stalking away, most likely retreating to his car. I shake my head in frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sun peek through the clouds, and I think I see something shimmery on Edward's neck. I do a double-take as the sunlight becomes muted again and Edward's form disappears from view, sans sparkles.

_Did I just see …? No, not possible. I think. Right? _

Shaking my head, I quickly gather my books, going into the cafeteria, heading to my regular table.

Upon entering the room, I pass by the jock table, hearing them whisper frantically both my name, along with Edward's. So now I know Edward's display of defense is the topic. I roll my eyes, not even acknowledging them.

I scan the line, groaning at the length of it. At this rate, I know I won't have enough time to get my food _and _eat it.

Deciding to skip lunch today, I head to my table, ignoring the lunch monitor's glare. Mrs. Adams has hated that I sit here because she had to move the kids who serve lunch detention out into the hall. Honestly, I don't see why she's so upset. From my perspective, I solved a problem; before I took over the table, the kids who sat here would never behave and be quiet the way they were supposed to. They were always talking with other students from another table, and now they can't talk to anyone because they're alone in the hall.

I guess Mrs. Adams doesn't see it that way, though. _Oh, well._

Collapsing in the seat, I blow out a breath and reach for a book to distract me until it's time to head to class. Five minutes later, a figure to my left has me looking up at a hesitant Alice, gripping her lunch tray like a life preserver.

"Hi, Bella."

I smile lightly, nodding. "Hey. Need a place to sit?"

Before she can reply, another girl walks by, and stops. It doesn't escape my notice—and tickles my funny bone—that she's studiously keeping her eyes on Alice to refrain from looking at me.

"You ... you can sit with my friends and me, Alice."

I fully expect Alice to take her up on her offer; after all, she seems so nervous and hesitant with me. It's obvious she's uncomfortable in my presence. Not that I blame her; I'm sure by now she's heard all sorts of sordid stories … many of which I'm extremely proud to confirm are true.

_In private, of course. _

To my surprise, however, she shakes her head, a friendly smile on her face. "Thanks, but I think I'll sit here."

The girl rushes off, no doubt to gossip.

Alice looks back at me, biting the inside of her lip, looking unsure. "Unless you'd rather be alone?"

I wave a hand toward the empty seat. "By all means."

She sits, her movements lithe and graceful. She turns to me with a smile, her face bright and eyes twinkling.

"Thanks. It's hard being new at a school, no matter what time of year it is."

I nod, even though I don't _really _know. I've lived in Forks my whole life.

"It seems like you're getting along fine." I gesture toward where the girl had walked off. "You won't hurt my feelings if you don't want to sit here, you know."

She cocks her head to the side, a puzzled look on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You seem … nervous around me. That's all."

She looks away, bowing her head toward her chest. An anxious chuckle escapes her as she looks back at me, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"To be honest … I'm used to … _knowing _how things will go. It's a gift of mine. My intuition is very strong, but I can't seem to know how things will go when I talk to you." Her voice drops to a whisper, the tone defeated and somewhat despondent as her eyes drop to the table. "I don't want to say or do the wrong thing. Finding friends, _real _friends, is tough … especially for me. I don't want to upset you."

Reaching over, I nudge her arm once, noting the similar temperature she and her brother share.

_Is it a genetic thing or an illness? It's very odd … _

I tuck the thought away for now, knowing it isn't the time or place. Instead, I focus on Alice's statement.

While the pessimistic bitch in me wants to shout that she's using me to get closer to her crush, the other half of me is telling me to give her chance.

The look of sincerity and honesty in her face has me believing she's telling the truth, but maybe she's just a good actress like Lauren was.

Until I know for sure, I'll be nice, but I won't go out of my way.

"I'm not delicate," I tell her. "If you say something I don't like, I'll tell you. Just be yourself; anything else isn't true."

She nods, a happy expression on her features once more, pushing her tray toward me. "Are you hungry? I see you didn't get lunch."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm not a big cafeteria food person. Take whatever you'd like."

"Thanks," I reply, snagging a few fries.

"We didn't get a chance to talk much earlier. What are your favorite—"

A shout across the cafeteria cuts her off and silences the cafeteria. "What the hell?"

Looking over, I see Lauren standing in front of Royce, her hand on his chin as she forcefully turns his head back and forth, examining his face. Her lips move as she speaks to him and whatever she says he shakes his head to and she sits down with a huff.

Lauren's gaze goes to me, and her lips disappear into a thin line. I happily wave back, eating fries and apple slices.

"She's pissed," Alice notes, moving some food around on her plate but not eating it.

"What else is new? What were you saying earlier?"

"What are your favorite horror movies?"

This begins our discussion. Surprisingly, we have a lot in common; we both love ghost movies, slasher flicks, and creature features. Our dislikes are the same too; we despise gory films and those that show too many hospital asylum scenes.

From there, we delve into our favorite books, and this is where we reach our first impasse; she doesn't like Edgar Allen Poe, where I happen to love his works.

"If everyone like everything the world would be dull," she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

Strangely, her face goes blank, and just before she closes her eyes, I think I see her eyes take a strange, light milky quality to them. However, when she looks at me again, all that remains is the golden butterscotch color of her irises.

"Sorry. I just remembered something; I have to go to the library and pick up a book for one of my afternoon classes. Maybe we can talk later?"

"Sure."

I wave goodbye and pick up my book, _The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe, _and begin reading, swinging a foot to the notes of _Moonlight Sonata _and humming it quietly. Before I know it, the bell rings, and I jump in surprise, hitting my knee on the table.

"Damn it, son of a bitch!"

"You really are a lady, Bella. Using such beautifully colorful language," Jasper says, sidling up next to me.

"Get bent, Jasper."

He chuckles and picks up my stuff, offering to carry it like the southern gentlemen he wishes to be.

"Alice Cullen was sitting with you today."

"Observant. Using your eyes, huh?"

He shoots me a disgruntled look. "Ha, ha."

"What's the deal?"

He shrugs. "I don't know," he murmurs. "It's like I said. I just have a weird feeling with them. I don't know what it is, yet."

"You just have this feeling with Alice, apparently."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're chummy with her brothers. If you had this feeling with all of them, you wouldn't be friendly with _them. _I think it's just because it's obvious she has a crush on you."

He starts to reply, but Lauren rushes up behind me, shoving me in the back, her face red.

"I know it was you."

I stumble, causing Jasper to reach out and steady me. He scowls at Lauren, moving forward, but I grab his arm and pull him back. Instead of standing off to the side, he steps up next to me, his shoulder maneuvering in front of me slightly, so I have no choice but to take a stride back.

"Throwing down the gauntlet, huh? You sure that's wise?"

She ignores me, her eyes narrowed into slits. "I know you punched Royce. You might have broken his nose!"

"First of all, he'd know if it were broken. It's kind of cut and dry. He's just being a baby. Second, you have no proof I punched him. I think he punched himself."

"He did not!" she shouts, her fists balled at her sides. "You punched him, I know you did!"

By now, we have a small group surrounding us, most likely itching for a fight. They've all waited years for one of us to hit the other and give them a show, but I won't be the one to start it. If it's going to come to blows, she's going to have to hit me first and not do that lame pushing crap she just did. Once she _hits _me, then I'll finish it.

_Just like Dad always told me to do. He's awesome that way. _

Outside the crowd stands Edward, looking between Lauren and me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he looks worried. But that can't be it. I'm positive he could give a rat's ass what happens to me.

"How do you know? You weren't there. He might have fallen, or he might have punched himself. Either one is _very _likely. Dude's got issues," I state solemnly, focusing on the problem in front of me.

Lauren sputters as the crowd laughs. "I'll get you back," is the last thing she says before she stomps away, her heels loudly clicking against the floor.

"Yeah, that's worked out well for her in the past."

"Bella, please be careful. I know you're not scared of her, but she's not all there, and Royce is definitely off the sanity scale. Be careful and keep an eye out, huh?" Jasper says lowly, worry in his eyes.

"You worry too much."

"It's a curse. Did you really punch him?" he asks then, his lips twitching.

"Me? I would never."

He stares at me for a long moment before his laughter breaks through. "Right. Get to class."

"Yes, sir!" I salute.

8*8*8*8*8*8

When the last bell rings, Jasper comes running up to me as I stand in front of my locker, a slightly nervous look on his face.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'm going over to the Cullen house."

I stare at him, confused. "Okay. What's the problem? You don't want to go?"

He mumbles something, which sounds like "I don't," which I can only guess means he doesn't want to go over there.

"If you don't want to go, just tell them. Since when are you afraid to say no?"

"No, I—can you—"

"I'm not doing your dirty deeds for you again, Jasper," I snap, slamming my locker shut and marching toward the door. "Just tell them you don't want to go."

He grabs my arm, pulling me out of the way before I can make it outside. "No, it's not that. It's—"he pauses with a groan, his head falling back on his shoulders before he looks back at me, his eyes wide and unblinking. "Alice is going to be there."

I want to laugh because Jasper being afraid of Alice is slightly comical, but I refrain. I practically feel the nervousness rolling off him in waves. Alice isn't exactly subtle when she stares at him or talks to him. It's obvious to anyone around that Alice has a major crush on him.

It's also obvious that Jasper doesn't know how to react to Alice's crush or the weird feeling he has toward her. Unfortunately, I don't know much to say besides what's painstakingly clear.

"You're going there to spend time with Emmett and Edward, right?" I try not to grimace at Edward's name, but I don't accomplish it. I don't want Jasper to feel bad about being friends with him. When Jasper doesn't acknowledge my grimace and nods, I continue. "Okay, then. I doubt you'll spend any time with her."

"But—"

Raising a hand, I stop him before he can start. "_If _you find yourself alone with her for some reason and she makes you uncomfortable, tell her to knock it off."

"I don't want to hurt her feelings though."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not telling you to scream it at her or tell her that verbatim, just say something similar in a more polite tone."

He nods and continues to nod as he mulls over what I've just told him. "Okay. Okay. Sounds good. Yeah, I'll do that."

"Okay. You good now?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He looks at his phone and curses softly. "Hey, will you tell Rosalie? I've got to go. Emmett and Edward are waiting for me."

He's running outside before I can answer, and while I'm a little pissed he's leaving me to deliver the news to Rose, I laugh for two reasons. One, because I'm sure he doesn't realize he'll be riding with Alice in the car and two, he hasn't been afraid of a girl since he was five and was chased by Mary-Ellen Thomas around the playground, proclaiming they were married.

I'm still laughing as I get in the car, which prompts Rose to look at me curiously.

"What's got you tickled?"

"Jasper is nervous being around Alice."

Her lips quirk, and she gives me a knowing look. "Really now? Picked up on the crush she has?"

"You know?"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Please. The girl has it _bad._" She snickers. "So, why was Jasper nervous about Alice today?"

"He's going over to the Cullen house this afternoon and was freaking out over being in the same space with her."

Rose's jaw clenches. "He waited until the last minute to tell us? Unbelievable. And if Emmett thinks this is going to get me to say yes to his constant requests for dates, he has another thing coming. I won't allow him to use my family to get me to say yes to him."

"What if he just wants a friend?"

"Friends with Emmett and Edward?" she says with a disgusted huff. "There are better options."

"Maybe, but everyone Jasper trusts, he's already friends with, and you can never have too many friends. At least that's what Mom says. They seem all right so far." I pause, watching her carefully. "Rose, do you have a problem with Jasper being friends with them?"

Personally, I don't have a problem with it; I could learn to ignore Edward, and I don't think Emmett is that bad … but then again, he isn't interested in me.

She sighs, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Of course not. I'm glad he's made new friends. I just … I wish Emmett would give me a break. He's nice and all, but he's cocky, arrogant, and sure of himself. He reminds me …" she stops for a moment, a haunted look on her face before she shakes her head. "I just don't like his behavior. It makes me feel like I'm a prize or something."

Sympathy for my cousin washes over me. I know she's irritated by Emmett's flirting, but I had no idea she feels like she isn't a real person with real feelings.

_I think it might be time to have a serious talk with Emmett. _

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"It's okay. Well, it's not. But it's not your fault. I hope he'll get over this _fascination _with me soon and leave me alone. There are plenty of other girls he can pick from," she trails off, a look of disdain on her face. "It's disgusting. They throw themselves at him as if he was the last man on earth."

To me, it seems like she's bothered by this, but I don't dare voice my thought out loud. I rather like my head where it is.

"I just want to get the rest of school over and done with and go off to college."

I nudge her. "Hey, don't forget, you still have to come home and visit us low lives you call family."

She smiles, shaking her head and reaching over to grab my hand. "Bella, I could never forget you. You're my family; you're more than my cousin, you're my sister. I love you to ends of the earth, and I'll always be here for you."

"I love you too … and you know, you say that now, but just wait until you have a high paying job, a fancy house, and a husband. Oh, let's not forget your bushels of children. We'll see how many visits we get then," I say jokingly.

She smiles, shaking her head as she turns into the driveway. When we're inside, Rose mentions to Mom that Jasper is with the Cullen boys for the afternoon and Mom nods, smiling pleasantly.

"He called a little bit ago and told us."

"Good. I'm working on homework upstairs."

Once she's gone, Mom turns to me, her head tilted toward the stairs. "She's troubled. What's going on?"

"She's having a hard time, that's all."

"Emmett?" she questions, surprisingly perceptive.

"Yep."

Mom sighs and shakes her head. "I hope things between them will resolve one way or another. I hate seeing her like this."

"It will, once I have a word with him."

"No. That's not a good idea, Bella."

"Why not?"

Mom takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen table. "Sweetie, I know you're protective of your cousins, and I love that about you," she says, brushing her hand across mine. "But you can't fight every battle for them. Some things, you have to let them fight on their own."

"But—"

"Bella, I know that the three of you take care of each other and have one another's backs; that's wonderful and admirable, but sometimes you have to know when to back off. Just like I've told Rosalie and Jasper: you can't protect the people you love from everything."

I give her a questioning look. "When did you tell them that?"

"I gave them that bit of advice when you were having a rough time in school, remember? When you first dyed your hair? People treated you horribly." I nod, remembering the disgusted looks, the harsh words, and the occasional shove. My peers treated me like a monster that escaped from the lab. "You should have seen them," Mom says with a laugh, continuing. "They were angrier than wet kittens! They both wanted to take on everyone that said a bad word against you. _That's _when I told them they needed to let you handle things yourself. They argued, of course, but your dad and I firmly told them they needed to back off. Now, look at you." She smiles proudly. "Not caring about what they say and becoming a stronger person because of it. Now, that's what _you _need to do. Let Rosalie sort out her own problems."

"I get that, but she's feeling like an object, and I think she's comparing him to Royce. Shouldn't I warn him this behavior of his isn't doing him any favors?"

She shakes her head. "If he's smart, he'll figure it out on his own. If not, then your father and I will step in. Just stay out of it. Let things progress naturally and let Rose handle it. She needs to do this on her own. If she needs to rant, then be there for _that, _but don't step in on her behalf. It won't end well."

I sigh heavily, knowing she's right. "All right."

"I know it's hard, but it has to be done." She pauses for a moment, letting everything sink in. "Let's talk about something else now. What happened today?"

"Nothing much. Royce tried to mess with Rose and me."

Mom's happy look turns sour fast. "What happened?"

"He just tried messing with us, that's all," I tell her, waving a hand. "I scared the crap out of him by talking to myself and punching him. I mean," I say, rushing to correct my story. "He fell. Such a strange occurrence."

She tries to have a stern expression on her face, but her lips twitch as she holds in her laughter. It gets to the point where she can't hold it in anymore, and her loud laugh reverberates throughout the kitchen. Under the sound of her humor, the front door closes, and my dad's boots shuffle along the floor.

"What's so funny?" he asks, coming into the room, kissing my forehead and giving my mom a quick peck.

"Tell him the truth," Mom warns through her laughter.

"I punched Royce and scared the crap out of him, talking to the voices in my head."

"That's my girl."

I smirk, and once Mom's laughter dies down, I tell her about my day. Her eyes light up when I mention Alice, and she claps her hands, grinning up at my father.

"She's your friend?"

I laugh at her hopeful expression. "You'd think I _don't _have friends."

"I know you do," she replies, patting my hand. "But you can never have too many friends. Is she nice?"

I do a shrug and nod combination, making her frown. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know." I sigh heavily. "She has a crush on Jasper. It's _really _obvious."

"And you think she's using you to get close to Jasper?"

Again, I do the shrug and nod combination because, in all honesty, I'm not really sure.

Mom places her hand on mine, squeezing it once. "Don't assume the worst. _If _she's just using you, it'll come out, sooner rather than later. Until then, be nice and welcoming. The Cullens are nice people."

"How do you know? Do you know them?"

"Crap, we're going to be late for the show, Ren," Dad curses, glancing at his watch.

Mom shoots up from her chair, scrambling to get her purse. "I'm ready!" She comes rushing back into the kitchen, a bright grin on her face. "It's date night for your father and me. Money for dinner is by the door. We'll be back around eight or so."

I bid them goodbye and head upstairs, wondering _how _my mother knows the Cullens are nice people. As soon as I think it, however, the answer comes.

I'm sure they were the first to introduce themselves when they moved to town. It's the most logical thing, since Dad is the Chief of Police; then why doesn't it feel right?

8*8*8*8*8

The next day, I'm feeling the effects of last night.

After Mom and Dad had left for their date night, I had retreated upstairs to work on my homework and read "scary" legends.

To be honest, they weren't even remotely frightening. In fact, they were rather comical, but my subconscious made them into horrifying images that had me waking up feeling paranoid every hour.

_Stupid dreams. _

Alice waves hello and stops at my locker to chat, making short friendly conversation. When the warning bell rings, she departs for her locker to retrieve her books, and Jasper finally comes to his locker after stopping in the parking lot to talk with Emmett and Edward.

He gathers his books and walks next to me toward our respective classes, looking pensive, his attention elsewhere.

"What's up?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking."

"Does it hurt?" I joke, hoping to get him to smile. He does.

"Yeah, terribly."

I laugh but quiet when I reach my class. "Seriously, is everything okay?"

"It is, I promise. I must be tired or something."

I eye him skeptically for a moment before letting it go. "All right. See you later."

He waves goodbye, and I enter, heading past Edward, who is already seated, his hands clenched into fists on his desk, his jaw taut. I ignore him as I sit, wondering if his teeth will still be intact by the end of the day if he keeps grinding them like that.

"All right, pay attention," the teacher barks just as the final bell rings. "Today we're going to crack open our history books and dive into the first section. That means this is going to be the first project of the year. For this project, you will work in teams of two, and before you can stake a claim on someone, please know I have already chosen your partners and the chapters you'll be working on."

A collective groan is heard throughout the room, and a feeling of dread bubbles in my gut. I close my eyes and pray I'm not partnered with someone I'm choosing to ignore as the teacher begins calling out partners.

"Okay, at random!" The teacher claps. "And there will be no switching! If you ask me to switch I will automatically take fifteen points off your grade; that starts you with a low B. Now, Eric Yorkie, you'll be working with Mary Johnson on section four. Mike Newton, your partner is Tyler Crowley, working on six."

_Oh, that should be interesting … Lauren's ex-boyfriend working with the guy she cheated on him with? Very interesting, indeed. _

While the teacher goes on down the list, I cross my fingers and repeat my chant of not working with _he who shall not be named,_ but as each student is paired off, my hope dwindles. Finally, my name being called gathers my attention and my hope crashes and burns.

"And working on section three is Bella Swan … and your partner will be Edward Cullen."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Thanks for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for your continued support with this story. It means a lot! **

**Big thanks to Fran for beta'ing and to Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading. You're all awesome! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

With a muffled groan, I lay my head down on the desk, willing an idea to come into my head to help me out of this mess. I _could _ask the teacher if I could work alone, but most likely, the threat of taking points off isn't an empty one. It'll be hard as hell to catch up, and my grades need to be decent in order for me to get a scholarship _if _I decide to go to college.

I half-listen as the teacher begins to explain the project and what will be expected from the pair working together. I probably should pay more attention, but honestly, they always end up giving out a paper that says everything they've already discussed. Which, I suppose, is a good thing for the people that are trying to control their temper and _not _hurl their desk across the room in a fit of rage. Namely, me.

I'm so mature.

I hope there won't be much interaction between Edward and me; I'm _really _hoping I can do my part at my house and he can do his at his house, then later we can meet for one minute and put everything together and call it a day. However, as the teacher explains on, my plan is rendered useless.

"The two of you will have to work together on research, writing the paper, putting together a presentation or giving a mock lecture. When you write your paper, you _must _cite your sources, or you won't get credit. Don't think you can just separate the projects and put them together at the last minute. Bounce ideas off each other; discuss ... debate. Work _with _one another, and no, that is _not_ a request. You need to learn to work with someone else. Does it suck? Of course, it does. But unfortunately, there _will _be times in your life when you have to work with other people. Another thing, don't think you can get away with one person doing all of the work and the other just slapping their name on it. I'll know, and you'll get an incomplete. This is due in _two weeks_, so I suggest you get started soon. You'll get class time and library time to work on it, but not a lot. Most of it will have to be done after school."

Fabulous. Now, I have to talk to him about putting this project together. I resist the urge to bang my head against the desk in frustration.

When the bell rings at the end of class, I sigh heavily and prepare myself to talk to Edward. But before I can take a step in his direction, he's out of the room. I'm almost surprised there isn't a trail of dust or smoke left behind in his wake.

He's super mature too, obviously. We're certainly a pair.

8*8*8*8*8

Throughout the day, I've tried to track Edward down, but I've had no luck.

The rampant gossip running like water through the school about the Cullens is no help either. All I hear is how good they look, as well as some pretty twisted fantasies.

I definitely need brain bleach now.

The bright side, I suppose, is that they're not stalkers.

I even asked Angela Webber, my friend, and office assistant, if she would give me his schedule so I could ambush him after class. Thankfully she did, even though it was against school rules.

But hey, who am I going to tell?

As soon as the jerk saw me coming, he hurried away, the ever-lingering annoyed expression plastered on his face.

I have to admit, though, I _am _impressed with his stealth skills. It's clear when he doesn't want to be found, he won't be, even in a school _this _small.

Sluggishly, I make my way to the cafeteria, hoping to catch him there. A quick scan of the room tells me he's not here yet, which is both good and bad.

To my surprise, Alice is sitting at my table, along with two lunch trays.

"Hi," she greets, not meeting my eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I hope I'm not imposing. I just thought I'd grab you lunch since I was up there."

"I thought you didn't like cafeteria food?"

She shrugs. "I meant to bring something, but I forgot. Beggars can't be choosers and all that. Is that … is it okay?"

"Uh, yeah. It's unexpected, but it's fine." I fish some money out of my bookbag, handing it over to her. She tries to refuse, but I'm not backing down. "I appreciate you getting this for me, but I can't allow you to pay for it."

"Don't worry about it," she tells me, waving a hand. "It wasn't a big deal and didn't cost much. I was already up there getting mine, so I thought I'd grab it and save you a trip."

"And I appreciate it, but I'm still paying for it myself."

Determinedly, I hold the money out, meeting her stubborn gaze with one of my own. Seeing I'm not going to back down, she sighs heavily, taking the money and shoving it into her pocket with a disgruntled expression.

"Thank you for getting this."

"You're welcome," she says, her sour expression fading into one of concern. "Are you okay? You looked a little … mad when you came in. Do you want to sit alone?"

I shake my head before she's done, surprising myself with that one.

"No, it's not you. It's your pain in the ass brother."

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. While I'm not Edward's biggest fan, I still don't want to run her brother into the ground. Until I know her better, that is. I glance over, wondering if she's going to get pissed off. To my surprise, however, she snorts a laugh.

"Which one?"

I eye her for a moment, wondering if she's really okay with this conversation. I try to see if there's any hidden hostility or anger there, I see nothing but friendliness and expectation.

Either she's a good actress, or she's fine with this.

"Look, I love my brothers, and I'd do anything for them. _However, _I don't have rose-colored glasses on when it comes to them. Sure, they're awesome most of the time, but I _know _they're a handful and can both be a pain in the ass. I'm here to listen if you want to vent, or I could help you with whatever problem you're having. I know their weak spots," she says with a wink and a soft nudge to my arm.

"You don't have to do that; it's not your problem. I just need to talk to him about this stupid project without him escaping," I grumble.

Alice waves a hand. "You don't have to tell me. He's completely stubborn and used to things going his way. I think that's why he behaves the way he does with you."

"You mean hating me?"

She shrugs, wrinkling her nose. "Hate is a strong word, but you definitely challenge him, and he's not used to that."

Unable to help myself, I snort. She makes it sound like he's some spoiled dick that pouts when things don't go according to his plan. Which makes sense—to me, anyway. His behavior certainly supports it.

"Is he spoiled or something?"

Alice giggles lightly, smothering the sound with her palm. "A tiny bit," she admits holding her thumb and index close together, so there's only a sliver of light coming through. "He was the first my parents adopted, so he's their 'baby,' so to speak."

I nod in recognition, remembering hearing a few people talk about how strange it was they adopted teenagers instead of younger children. Personally, I think it's a good thing. It doesn't matter how old a child is when they need a home and a family.

"Though recently," she continues, oblivious to my thoughts, "he's been going through a rough patch. It's been really hard on him, and he's struggling. A lot."

Her cheerful face fades into one of sadness and pain. My curiosity flares, making me wonder _what _he's struggling with, and for a moment, I'm tempted to ask, but realize it's not any of my business.

While I understand he's going through something at the moment, it's still no reason to be a jerk, and I say this to her.

"I agree, and I've told him this; Emmett _and _my parents have told him, too, but at times, he's rather impulsive and acts without thinking. He's working on it."

"It's not working."

She laughs again, her eyes darting to the cafeteria doors, a breathy sigh escaping her lips. Turning, I see what has her attention.

Jasper strolls into the cafeteria at that moment, talking animatedly with Emmett and Edward. The three of them all look excited, talking and laughing. A few of the tables they pass become quiet, the female occupants looking at the Cullen brothers with glazed eyes while the guys simply look annoyed.

They head over to a table with a couple of Jasper's friends, Ben Cheney and Tyler Crowley. Ben and Tyler welcome the Cullens warmly, jumping into the conversation with ease as most boys do. The others at the table shift uncomfortably, trading quick glances and mouthing words.

A few girls at the table, acquaintances of Lauren's, pull their shirts down to reveal the top of their cleavage and turn, so the boys can get an optimal view of their 'assets.' The only girl who doesn't do this is Angela, who is madly in love with Ben.

While she doesn't mimic the other girls, she _does _give the pair an appreciative glance before returning her attention back to her homework.

_You sly girl! _

I chuckle lightly to myself, stocking that bit of information away to bring up later as I debate about whether or not I should go over there.

Now or never.

I look at Alice, who is staring at Jasper with an adoring look that vanishes once she feels the heat of my stare.

Grinning sheepishly, she looks down at the table, not looking up as I slowly rise, excusing myself. Releasing a heavy sigh and a slight whine from the back of my throat, I heave myself up, stomping over to Jasper's table.

"Hey," Jasper greets with a small smile, though his voice is drowned out by Emmett's loud and enthusiastic reception.

"Hey ya, Bella!"

Unable to help myself, I smile. "Hey, Emmett."

Looking past him, the smile falls off my face as I glance at Edward, his eyes glaring down at the table like it's personally offending him.

_Or, as if the table is me. _

"Edward, we need to nail down a time and date to work on this project."

My words are ignored; his gaze remains fixed on the table, his hands resting on his thighs. A tense, uncomfortable silence forms around the four of us, quickly spreading to the others at the table, who shift and glance uneasily at us.

Emmett elbows Edward in the side, jerking his head toward me. In response, Edward glares, rising from the table and stalking out of the cafeteria.

Jasper's lips pull down in a deep frown, his eyes narrowed on Edward's retreating form.

"What's that about?" He questions, looking up at me.

"We don't get along. Obviously."

Without another word, Jasper gets up and takes me by the arm, leading me away from the table Emmett still occupies.

Rose, having seen the interaction from her table near the double doors, walks over, ignoring Emmett's greeting.

"What was that about?" She inquires, at the same time Jasper asks his own question.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" I reply with a shrug. It was pretty average as of late.

An unamused look crosses his face. "Don't play dumb. What happened with you and Edward?"

Rose nods in agreement with his inquiry, gazing at me unblinkingly.

It's so creepy how she does that. Is she part robot? Or a pod-person? Normal people can't go that long without blinking, can they? I need to look that up.

I sigh. "I don't know. I bumped into him in Port Angeles by accident, and he flipped out. Clearly, he's insane."

From the table, I hear a deep chuckle, but when I look over, I see no signs of laughter from anyone, though there is a twinkle in Emmett's eye.

Returning my attention to Jasper and Rose, I see an array of emotions playing out on their faces. Rose looks pissed as she glares at where Edward had exited, while Jasper seems angry and disappointed, before looking resigned.

Knowing where his thoughts are heading, I shake my head and stab my index finger in his chest. "Don't. Just because we don't get along doesn't mean you can't hang out with him."

"But—"

"I'm not the one hanging out with your friends," I argue. "I don't have to like them, just like you don't have to like mine."

Quickly, his eyes dart over to my lunch table, where Alice is still sitting, before returning to me. I purse my lips to hold back the smirk that threatens to escape.

"Fine," he finally concedes. "I will tell him about it, though."

Holding up my hands in surrender, I take a step back. "Whatever. Not my problem, not my friend. Just as long as he's nice to _you, _then it's all good."

He nods once, heading back to the table. Emmett immediately leans forward, his face alight with joy at whatever he's sharing.

Rose pensively stares at Emmett and Jasper for a long moment, before looking at my table where Alice sits. She turns to me, questions in her eyes.

"Are you two friends now?"

"It's tentative," I hedge, not knowing if Alice and I are friends or not. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's weird? Her crushing on Jasper and sitting with you? Or Emmett crushing on me and hanging with Jasper?"

I bite the inside of my lip to keep my chuckles contained because Rose isn't speaking as quietly as she thinks she is. Jasper and Emmett both snap their heads over to us, the former looking mighty displeased.

Her words make sense, though. I mean, it could be possible they're just trying to get closer to the object of their desires, but who knows? Maybe they're just lonely. I imagine it would suck being new in a town where gossip spreads like wildfire.

"I don't know what their plan is, or _if _they have one. Don't be so quick to condemn people, Rose."

"And _you _don't be so quick to trust."

"Who says I am? Time will tell everything."

She nods once and murmurs a goodbye, patting Jasper on the shoulder. He dodges it, still looking unhappy with her previous words. Rose rolls her eyes and heads back to finish her lunch.

I head back to my own table, but pause as Lauren steps in front of me, hanging off Mike's arm. With disgust, I note one of her hands practically fondling his crotch. My stomach churns, threatening to expel everything I've eaten this week.

_Where are the teachers?_

"So, I heard you have to work with Edward on a project, and he hates you," Lauren says with a smug smirk. "It's nice to see he has taste after all."

"So, I heard Mike's partner for the history project is Tyler. Isn't that something?" I counter, smiling when her gleeful face falls, and she looks to Mike in confirmation. He nods sharply, glaring at me from the corner of his eye.

This has to be Lauren's worst nightmare. Last year she was dating Tyler, and she cheated on him with Mike right under his nose. Everyone could see it but Tyler and no one wanted to say anything because to most of my classmates, this was a free soap opera. To others, they didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, so they simply kept their nose out of it.

I thought Tyler was stupid because he _knew _she was screwing all of the single—and some not so single—guys on various sports teams. After all, that was how they met. I guess he thought when they started dating she would change for him.

He was an idiot, just like Mike is. Does he think she's remaining faithful?

Yeah, just as much as the sun is purple.

When Lauren and Mike's relationship came to light, Tyler vowed he would get revenge one day, especially if they didn't stay out of his way.

It seems that now, Tyler is going to get his way; he and Mike having to work together is definitely going to cause some tension. I just wonder what he has planned.

"You have to get out of it, Mike," she snaps, looking pale and extremely worried.

"I can't, Lauren. The teacher said she would take off points if we complained."

"I don't care, you dumb ass. You switch partners by the end of the day or else! I'd rather you work with the freak over here!" she shouts, pointing in my direction.

"Stellar insults, but don't try too hard, okay? Save yourself the brainpower; we wouldn't want it to explode. Brain matter is so hard to get out of knockoff cashmere."

Lauren screeches under her breath, a sound only dogs can hear, and stomps off with Mike rushing after her, trying to offer assurances that everything will be okay.

I chuckle to myself, heading back to my table where Alice waits, a smirk playing on her lips.

"She's … something else," she hedges.

"No kidding," I say with a snort, and start eating.

Alice turns her body toward me, excitement in her features. "Did you hear about that new horror movie coming out in October?"

I answer in the negative because I haven't logged into the horror blogs I frequent in a couple of days. I really need to put my e-mail app on my phone and make time to check out the website. I hate feeling left out of the loop.

"It sounds so good," she begins before trailing off. "Do you want me to tell you or do want to read about it for yourself?"

I don't even need to think about it; I want to hear about all horror movies and the horror genre in general at any and all times. In my opinion, you can't have enough of it. The plus side is, I'll hear it before Jasper, and hold it over his head.

"No, tell me."

She excitedly rambles about it and by the time she's done, I'm thoroughly impressed by the description of the movie, and I can't wait to see it on the big screen. I don't think she's taken a single breath while she spoke, but then again, I've been known to ramble too at times.

"It sounds good. We'll have to go see it."

For some odd reason I can't fathom, she looks extremely happy.

8*8*8*8*8

Chemistry was proven to be a bust.

Not because of the class, though. Because of the perpetual thorn in my side, named Edward Cullen.

Even his name sounds snotty, jeez. His parents sure did name him right.

I planned on speaking with him about the assignment before class started, but he came in just as the last bell rang and left just as class was dismissed. Tracking him in the hallway was a useless attempt; he was easily swallowed by the wild mix of students happy to be free of another class and the worried ones, terrified they'd be late.

Unfortunately for him, we share our last class of the day together; gym. Unless he plans on skipping it—which I wouldn't put past him to do—he can't avoid me. Normally, the coach throws us all together and tells us to 'play nice.' I hate it, but when it comes to stubborn jackasses and my grades, I'm thankful for it.

Outside of the gym, I spot Edward's head of chaotic bronze hair and quicken my steps, feeling the wind whistle through my hair.

Edward turns when I'm five feet from him, and his eyes widen slightly just before he rushes into the boy's locker room, somewhere I'll _never _go, no matter how much I'm paid.

"I'll get you, you bastard," I grumble, stomping into the girl's locker room to change.

Once I'm in my _beautiful, _gray and burgundy Forks High uniform, I stand near the entrance, ignoring Coach Clapp's inquisitive gaze. My classmates file past me into the gym and give me odd looks. Lauren stops to attempt to say something but wisely decides not to, once I give her a hard look.

Coach Clapp blows his whistle just as the bell rings, signaling the beginning of another hour. I narrow my eyes at Edward as he struts in, smiling in triumph.

"Front and center you two," Coach orders.

We head in opposite directions, standing with our respective sexes. I roll my eyes as Lauren's voice drifts from the back of the group.

"I hope we're not doing anything too strenuous. I am _not _showering here, and Mike is taking me to Port Angeles for dinner tonight. Plus, I just had my hair done, and it gets so—"

Her voice is drowned out by Coach Clapp's as he again blows his whistle. "All right, pay attention. Today, we're going to be doing something called _teamwork. _That means we're all going to work _together._"

I smother the groan threatening to escape.

What is it with these teachers wanting us to work together?

"You have two choices for activities today; you can play basketball or volleyball."

Well, there's no doubt in my mind. I'll be playing volleyball; it's my favorite sport and something I'm kind of good at if I do say so myself.

"The rules are the same as always: no rough-housing, no name-calling and if I see things getting physical, it's an immediate failing grade for the day, and you'll be sent to the principal's office. Now, pick your sport and have fun," he concludes, clapping his hands once.

Immediately, I search out Edward, and I'm not surprised to see him on the other side of the gym, clearing choosing basketball.

Fine. I can work with this.

Once the equipment is set up, and the balls are distributed, the gym is filled with squeaking shoes, bouncing balls and excited chatter.

I head over to one of the volleyball nets, ignoring the uncomfortable stares as my classmates giving me a wide berth—wider than it needs to be while we play volleyball—and wait for the game to start. On the other side of the net, I see I'm playing against Lauren, but I pay her no mind. My attention is on Edward, looking for a perfect opportunity to go through with my plan, but I never get the chance; he stays on the far side of the area, keeping a mindful watch on me.

Damn him.

The game begins and more than once Lauren attempts to spike the ball in my face. I counter her attacks and smirk as she squeals and jumps out of the way as my serve comes flying for her.

"You did that on purpose," she screeches.

"No more than you did."

She starts to retort, but is cut off by Coach Clapp walking up, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression on his face … though, he always looks like that.

"I don't see a lot of activity going on here."

We pick up the game up again, and when my turn to serve comes up, I see my perfect chance. If I can get the ball to land near him, then he'll have no choice but to talk to me; maybe then we can nail down a time to do this stupid project.

Edward stands about ten feet from Lauren, helping a teammate make it to the basket.

Perfect.

Taking the white ball, I throw it up in the air and hit it, aiming toward Edward's shoulder. It sails through the air, heading toward my target, but at the last minute, it hits Mike instead, as Edward suddenly jerks to the left.

It's not a total loss. At least Mike was hit. Maybe it'll knock some sense into him.

As an added bonus, Lauren drops to the floor with a screech, covering her head as the ball sails past her. I don't bother to hide my laughter as I walk by her, raising an eyebrow as she glares from the floor.

Edward tosses the ball to me as soon as I'm close enough. I flounder for a moment, the object bouncing on my hands before I get a solid grip.

"Hey," I hiss, marching after him. "I'm not done with you."

He sighs heavily, his shoulders and head dropping back momentarily before his rigid posture and glare returns.

"What?"

"We have to set up a time to do this project."

"I don't—"

"Look—" we say at the same time, only to be interrupted by Coach Clapp and his whistle from hell.

_Why does he do that? We're two feet away from him! Can't he just talk like a normal person?_

"This isn't a date. Get back to your games!"

Edward smirks and turns away, diving back into his game, leaving me fuming.

Don't worry, Cullen. I'll corner you, one way or another.

8*8*8*8*8*8

The world around me is a mass of swirling color as I stalk out of the gym, rushing past the throngs of people pouring out of classrooms like a flood. I make it to my locker in under four minutes, which is impressive if I do say so myself, considering the gym is almost on the other side of the school. I guess being extremely pissed and having your patience MIA gives you quick feet like Edward Cullen.

Speaking of the asshat, I had planned to corner him after gym was over, but two things prevented me from doing just that; one, Lauren had somehow managed to get her grimy little hands on a bottle of bleach and poured it all over my clothes.

Luckily for her, I wasn't wearing the shirt I had planned on this morning; if my favorite, black, blue and purple tie-dye shirt was ruined, there would be hell to pay.

I can't prove it, of course, but I know it was her. It's too coincidental that she had to go to the bathroom when I had returned to the volleyball game. Plus, she can't keep a secret for shit. Her triumphant smirk says it all.

The second obstacle that kept me from talking to Edward was the man himself; he stayed holed up in the locker room until I could no longer stand the strong aroma coming from within. I can only hope the horrid stench of the locker room made him pass out. It's what he deserves for acting like a child.

Heaving my locker open, I throw all of my books inside, thankful I don't have much homework. If I did, I have a feeling one of my books might 'accidentally' slip out of my hand and hit a certain someone in the head.

Repeatedly.

"What the hell," I hear coming from my right.

Jasper slowly walks toward me, his eyes wide and mouth open as he takes in my ruined clothes.

"What happened to you?"

I take a deep breath, trying to find my 'inner calm' as my mother would say, but I can't. My patience and calm for the day—if not the week—has vanished.

Pulling my still damp clothes away, I wave a hand down, like a game show girl, only this isn't a prize. "What you see here is the last straw in this shitty day. On top of Edward being extremely difficult and childish about our joint project, Lauren did this."

His eyes narrow and he looks around the hall, muttering under his breath about making her pay. His own anger fuels my own; my face heats and my body ignites in flames. I clench my jaw and ball my hands into fists, the urge to punch something so strong I can almost feel the impact of my knuckles against a hard surface.

Slowly, I feel my control slip, and I'm seconds away from losing it; I may be a bitch, but I'm not a violent person. Sure, I've punched a few people—namely Royce—but they started it in one way or another. Closing my eyes, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, resting my forehead against the cool metal of the locker. The sensation is a welcome one, and I allow myself to focus on the feeling, imagining it spreading down my body, all the way to my toes, putting out the fire that is my anger.

When I feel calm enough, I notice Jasper is in a similar position to me, except his back is against the locker. Honestly, that's probably the better decision; who knows what kind of germs are crawling on these things.

"Let's go," he softly says, nodding toward the doors.

I nod once and turn, spotting Lauren coming down the hall, her group of followers behind her, talking amongst themselves. She catches my eye and smirks, her gaze traveling down my ruined and splotchy clothes. Her lips part the tiniest bit, but she wisely thinks better of it once she sees my face.

Her cronies behind her look between the two of us anxiously, waiting to see what's going to happen. A collective air of disappointment stems as Lauren flips her hair over her shoulder and quickly walks away, a noticeably pale hue to her complexion.

One sharp bark of humorless laughter escapes me as I watch Lauren and her group disappear down the hall. Jasper laughs as well, shaking his head once and nudging my arm, grimacing at the damp feeling on my clothes.

"Come on, killer. We need to get home so you can change. Inhaling the bleach fumes probably isn't good for you."

I follow behind him toward the door and out of the parking lot, but before I exit, I spot Alice at her locker, an impassive-looking Edward behind her.

Taking a sharp left, I head toward them, hearing Jasper's indignant "Hey!"

"I'll meet you at the car," I say, turning to look at him.

He rolls his eyes and grumbles something under his breath, heading outside.

I march toward Edward, noting the small group of girls to the left, eyeing him while they whisper and giggle amongst themselves. It looks like they're trying to muster up the courage to go over and talk to him, but they seemed to lack the strength, except for one.

Trisha—an ex-friend of Rose's—straightens her shirt and runs her fingers through her hair. I slow my steps and watch as she steps in Edward's line of sight, trying to give him her most alluring, flirtatious smile.

"Hello, Edward."

I can't help but snicker as he nods in her direction, his eyes never once landing anywhere near her. Trisha's face falls, and she glares at me as I walk past. I simply smirk and carry on my way, amused Edward doesn't even seem to notice the girls around him going through tremendous effort to get his attention.

It's sickening how they think he's the greatest thing in the world. He _is_ handsome, I'll give him that, but his attitude is shit. However, it is funny as hell to see them get glanced over like moldy bread.

Alice and Edward's eyes widen when I stop in front of them, glancing at the pinkish-white splatters on my clothes. I offer up no explanation though. It's not the time to chit-chat, especially with a guy who can't be in the same room as me for longer than two seconds.

"Okay," I start, my unwavering gaze on his. "I know you don't like me and don't want to work with me. That's fine; I feel the same way. You're rude, unpleasant, and quite frankly, one of the biggest dicks I've met. Now, we _have _to work on this project together. I don't like it, but life sucks that way. In an effort to get this done as quickly as possible, so we don't have to interact with one another longer than we have to, I suggest we get started. The sooner, the better."

He looks stunned by my speech, blinking slowly, his mouth falling open slightly. At his side, Alice attempts to stifle a laugh behind her palm, but it only amplifies the sound. Edward snaps his gaze over to her, and she stares up at him apologetically, remorse swimming in her eyes. There's some sort of weird silent communication going on between them, something I've only rarely seen between Rose and Jasper.

When he turns back toward me, humor is plastered on her face once more as she bites the corner of her lip to keep from smiling. Her lips twitch the longer she stares at me, and in an effort to control herself, her gaze drops to the floor. I have to wonder if she enjoys the grief I'm giving him. It certainly seems that way, and if that's the case, then I like her a little more.

Edward sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. The look on his face is pained as he grudgingly speaks. "Fine. Give me your number, and I'll call you when I set it up."

"Why yes, Edward, I'll give you my number. Thank you for asking so _nicely," _I sarcastically say. I start digging through my book bag for a scrap piece of a paper and scribbling my home number. There's no way in hell he's getting my cell number.

I hold it out to him, shaking it a little when he just stares as if I'm handing him an infectious disease. "It's not going to bite you."

He reaches out, his fingers laying on top of mine. A strange buzz rushes from where our skin touches, feeling like a sugar high. I look at him, wondering if he feels the same thing I do. At his puzzled frown, I would say he does, but the question remains; _what _is it?

Snatching my hand back, I shove it in my pocket. I wonder if he's radioactive or something. Maybe that's why I get a weird feeling when his skin touches mine.

He blinks, looking shocked, before composing himself. Shoving the paper in his pocket, he mumbles something to his sister.

"I'll be there in a second," she replies with a reassuring smile.

He doesn't look pleased by her words, but he walks briskly past me. Alice's eyes follow him as he stalks away, and when he's out of sight, she turns to me with a bright smile, grabbing my arm.

"That was so awesome! No one has ever spoken to him like that!"

I laugh lightly, though I am confused. "You almost sound happy we don't get along."

"No," she says, all traces of giddiness gone. "I'm not. I love him; he's my brother and my best friend, but he's done some things I don't agree with. Things he's gotten away with for one reason or another. To see someone not let him skate by and do whatever is a wonderful thing. Maybe he'll change," she murmurs, her voice trailing off. She snaps out of it quickly, though. "That doesn't mean I'll let any harm come to him, physically _or _emotionally. He may be a stubborn ass, but he still has feelings, and I won't let him get hurt."

The friendliness of her face fades into a stony mask, her eyes darkening in color and her lips pressing in a thin line as she gives me a cold stare. I take half a step back, my heart hammering in my chest and my throat tight before I realize what I'm doing.

Who knew someone as sweet and small as Alice could be somewhat terrifying?

"I'm not going to let him walk all over me," I tell her. I'm a little impressed by her fierce protectiveness and a little frightened by it, if I'm being honest. However, if she thinks I'm going to let her brother treat me like a piece of gum on the bottom of his expensive shoes, she has another thing coming.

At my words, her face softens, the hard lines and dangerous exterior fading into a more youthful and friendly appearance. It's kind of fascinating if I'm being quite honest. It's almost as if she's two different people in the same body; one is nice, friendly, a little nervous and overeager, while the other will kill you with her pinky.

Maybe Rose is right; maybe I have been watching too much horror movies … nah, that's not possible.

"And you shouldn't," she agrees. "As I said, he doesn't know how to respond to you. He's never had someone to butt heads with, so he's doing the only thing he knows how: being defensive."

I nod, even though I think she's way off the mark on this one. From the first moment I met him, he was a Class A asshole. I don't know why, but maybe that's just the way he is, and he's been careful not to show that side to his sister.

Or she's been too blind to see it.

Yeah, I'm going to go with that one.

I nod and take a step backward, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. "I gotta get going. Jasper and Rose are waiting for me."

"Can I walk out with you?"

I do a combination of a shrug and a nod, watching as she shoves a handful of books into her bag and keeps up the pace as I lead us into the parking lot. It doesn't escape my attention that her eyes are immediately drawn to Jasper, who is conversing with her brothers near the picnic tables to the left.

Chuckling lightly and shaking my head, I bid her goodbye, but turn when she calls my name.

"I'm sorry if I was too … aggressive back there."

"You weren't," I tell her with a slight shake of my head. "You don't have to apologize. You're just protecting your brother. I get it. I'm the same way. See ya."

Unfortunately, I have to walk past them and subsequently, Edward, to get to Rose's car. I don't want to be in the same vicinity as him, but asking Rose to pick me up somewhere else or walk around the school building seems a little childish.

Although, I could use the exercise. A little fresh air would be good too.

I shake my head. It's too childish to do such a thing, and I won't give Edward the satisfaction of knowing he's bothering me. With my head high and my shoulders squared, I walk past the group, meeting Edward's gaze unflinchingly and smirking when he looks away. I wave at Emmett and nod toward Jasper when he tells me he'll be along in a moment.

Rose isn't here yet, so I lean against the vehicle, waiting.

Across the lot, the Cullens are heading toward a silver Charger with black stripes on the hood. Alice stops at the driver's seat, waving with a friendly smile. I return the gesture and make a big show of waving at Edward, who climbs into the passenger seat with a deep scowl.

"You two really don't get along do you?" Jasper questions, chuckling under his breath.

"What happened to you being pissed off? Now you're tickled by it?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I _don't _like it. But, there's something more going on. I can feel it."

I roll my eyes and turn my head away. I think the only thing Edward is feeling is the hatred we both have for one another. There might even be some homicidal urges thrown in there—all from _his _side, of course. His looks say more than whatever his mouth could.

"Whatever you're feeling is nothing to be so humored about … unless you want me to disappear mysteriously."

This time, he rolls his eyes. "You know that's not true, you overdramatic brat."

I poke my tongue out at him, watching as he nervously shifts from left to right and back again, his eyes studying the grouping of trees surrounding the school. I immediately zone in on Alice leaning against the silver car, a cell phone in her hands.

She appears to be texting someone, or she wants someone to _think _she's texting. Every now and then, she looks up in our direction but looks back down at her phone just as suddenly.

I watch with barely concealed humor as the pair each does their own dance; Alice looks up from under her lashes as she 'texts' and Jasper shifts from side to side, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he glances over at her through the tiny space between his forearm and upper arm.

"She still makes you uncomfortable, huh?"

He jumps, looking at me with wide, startled eyes. He starts to shake his head but sighs heavily when he sees my unwavering face.

Leaning against the car next to me, he folds his arms over his chest, his gaze to the ground. "Yeah, kinda. I mean, she's nice, but she gives me a weird feeling." He trails off, confusion coloring his words. "I can't explain it. I don't know what it is and it makes me feel creeped out."

I start to reply, but he continues. "Then, I feel guilty about feeling that way. I've seen her interact with you and Jess; she's nice and sincere. You can't fake that stuff, you know? I mean, you could, but I can tell it's genuine. But there's just something there …"

He trails off again, a frustrated sound coming from the back of his throat. He scrubs a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye.

"Ugh! I don't know."

Reaching out, I place my hand on his arm and squeeze. "Hey, don't stress. You'll figure it out."

"But she likes me. It's pretty obvious."

"It is," I affirm. "But so what? Just because she likes you doesn't mean you have to like her back."

He sighs and shakes his head, looking up as Rose exits the school, holding the door open and nodding at someone unseen. The suspense doesn't last long. Emmett steps out seconds later, hands shoved in his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

Jasper and I exchange a glance, wondering what the hell is going on. She doesn't look pissed, so she can't be telling him off, but then again, she doesn't look exactly _happy _either.

"I wonder what they're talking about," he murmurs.

"Yeah, I wonder."

Man, I wish I had super hearing.

Their conversation concludes, and they part ways, Emmett heading toward his siblings and Rose heading to us, her brown tresses following behind her like a cape.

"What happened to you?" She questions. Before I can reply, her eyes flash, and she clenches her jaw, spinning around. "Where is that bitch?"

I reach out and grab her arm, pulling her back. "Take it easy, slayer. Don't do it."

"I'm not letting her get away with this, and I'm surprised you are," she says, astonished.

"Who says I'm letting her get away with it?" I counter with a raised eyebrow. "Don't worry. I have an idea, and it could possibly the _best _revenge scheme in all of my years."

Rose's head cocks to the side, a slight smirk on her face. I see curiosity burning in her eyes, and I know she wants to ask what I'm thinking, but she doesn't. I know she'd rather be surprised.

"All right. Let's go home."

We pull out of the parking lot, and Jasper gives me a quick look, nodding toward Rose. I firmly shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly. There's no way I'm going to ask her why she was talking to Emmett. That's _his _friend; it's only right _he _asks.

Rolling his eyes, he clears his throat, rubbing his hands over his thighs. "What were you and Em talking about, Rosalie?"

"_Em_?" she questions sardonically. "Nicknames already, huh?"

His lips thin in annoyance, a slight glower on his face. An air of irritation thickens in the tiny space, and I shift, wondering if it would just be better for me to walk from here. There's no way I want to be in the middle of another one of their arguments.

"What is your problem today?"

"I don't feel well. I'm PMS'ing," she says, interrupting and effectively shutting him up for now. If there's any way you want to be left alone, just mention the 'forbidden' word and you're golden for the next week.

Jasper looks back at me before sliding down into the passenger seat, shrinking against the door. I roll my eyes at his behavior. He acts as if she's going to rip him to shreds and burn the pieces. We girls may get a little crazy during that time of the month, but we're not psycho.

It's not long before Jasper starts to tap his foot against the floorboard, tapping his fingers against his thigh in an irregular rhythm as he casts glowering looks toward his twin. His curiosity is getting the better of him, and he'll no doubt crack, wondering what she and Emmett were talking about.

_5, 4, 3, 2, 1_

"What did you say to him?"

_Right on time. _

Rose's hands tighten around the steering wheel, the skin of her knuckles stretching white against the bone.

"I was just asking him a question," she finally replies.

Jasper waves a hand, silently telling her to continue. She looks at him briefly, and I know she has the bitch face on; one raised eyebrow, her lips pursed in aggravation. With that look it says it all; _are you kidding me _to _screw you, I don't answer on command. _

"What was it?" He asks when she remains silent.

"It's none of your concern, Jasper. I needed to know something, so I asked. End of story."

"Is this about what you said at lunch?" He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. "He heard you, you know."

She shrugs a shoulder. "I don't care."

"Did you find out what you needed to know?"

She pulls into the driveway of our home and shuts off the engine, turning in her seat to face him fully.

"Why is this so important to you?" she demands.

Jasper looks down, his fingernail scraping dirt off of his jeans. "I know you don't trust their motives; to be honest, I get a weird feeling from them too. I can't explain it. I just know Emmett and Edward … they're nice to me. I can talk to them about my love of history and video games and not feel awkward. I feel like I can be myself."

"What about Ben? He's a good person."

"He is," he answers immediately. "I'm not saying he's not. He's been a great friend to me, but I don't know. I can't explain why Emmett and Edward are different."

Wanting to lift the heavy atmosphere, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean in between the seat, ruffling Jasper's shaggy hair. He makes an annoyed grunt of frustration, but I can see the smile playing at his lips.

"Aw, you found your soulmates," I tease.

Before he can say anything, Rose speaks. "I get it. None of my other friendships feel the same as the one I have with Vera. She gets me just as well as you two do at times."

"Yeah," Jasper murmurs, shifting slightly.

Rose reaches forward, grasping his hand tightly. "Just be careful, okay? You have that feeling for a reason."

"I know."

With a long sigh, Rose murmurs something and gets out of the car, fishing her cell phone out as it repeatedly buzzes from one of the pockets of her backpack.

Whatever she sees, causes her to make a sound of disgust as she rolls her eyes and throws it back inside, zipping it with a harsh tug.

Jasper and I nod, before simultaneously looking back at her, as she glances between us with a puzzled expression.

"What?"

"What was that about?" Jasper asks pointing to her backpack.

She shrugs. "Wrong number."

Without another word or glance, she heads into the house, where she can be heard conversing with Mom. Jasper shakes his head, looking extremely confused, but he doesn't ask any additional questions as he follows her into the house.

"Do you guys have any homework?" Mom asks, her back to us as she reads the printed recipe taped to one of the yellow cabinets.

"Always," Rose answers. "I'll be in my room."

It doesn't escape my notice that halfway up the stairs, Rose is pulling out her cell phone, her fingers flying over the screen. It makes me extremely curious to know _who _she's talking to. Obviously, it's someone she knows. Otherwise, she wouldn't be texting them.

I shrug it off. It's most likely Vera or perhaps Angela; she hangs out with her on occasion, and they get along pretty well. You wouldn't know it from looking at Angela, but she has a wicked sense of humor underneath her quiet demeanor.

"Yeah, I finished mine," Jasper replies, making me do a double-take. I shake my head, knowing he's lying. He's never finished his homework early. He always drags his feet until the last minute and then rushes to get it done the night before it's due, begging me to help him.

"Shut up," he mouths, before resuming his normal volume. "I'm going to play a game with Emmett. Wanna join, Bella?"

"No thanks. I want to get an outline of my project done. Maybe it'll give my _partner _some incentive to start working on it."

"Ooh! Who are you working with?" Mom questions, turning around.

Seeing my ruined clothes, her smile fades. "What on earth happened to your clothes?"

8*8*8*8*8

Both of my parents are pissed at Lauren for ruining my clothes. Mom wants to call her parents and make her pay for replacements, while Dad wants to arrest her. I manage to talk them down from their anger because really, I don't want her money and the arrest charges won't stick.

It would be fun to make her think she's getting arrested though. I bet she'll cry.

I argue with both of them for half an hour, trying to get them both to calm down and stop them from picking up the phone or going over to her house. They finally acquiesce when I cryptically tell them karma _will _bite her on the ass one day.

As in, Karma's name is now "Bella," and yes, I can be a bitch too.

A couple of hours later, the five of us sit down to dinner, eating my Gran's famous chili. We're all silent, appreciating the hearty, spicy flavor that blends so well with the homemade cornbread Dad made when he got home from work.

He breaks the silence during the scraping of spoons against the bottom of the glass bowls as most of us finish our second helpings.

"So," he says, sitting back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. "How was everyone's day?"

Rose and Jasper answer first, giving a brief rundown of their day before it's my turn, which I reluctantly do; not because I don't want to share it, but I had _just _gotten relaxed, and now I'm going to be all worked up again. "I have to work on an assignment with someone in my history class. It's not going to end well."

"Make sure you don't leave your DNA at the crime scene," Dad says jokingly. "There's only so much I can do to keep you out of jail."

"That's not funny, Charlie," my mother scolds halfheartedly. "It's not Lauren or one of her friends, is it?" she questions with a frown.

"No, it's Edward. I'm so excited," I deadpan.

Rose, who was sitting slumped in her chair, straightens, looking at me sharply. "You're working with Edward Cullen? Why didn't you tell me?"

"If I told you everything that happens in my life, you'd never get any sleep from all the excitement I live through. Besides, I found out about it today, and someone had disappeared as soon as she entered the house, not even bothering to ask other people about their day."

Rose gives me an exasperated look for my sarcasm, and I smile brightly at her in response, eating a big spoonful of chili.

"Must you be so sarcastic?"

"I must," I reply. "It's the language of my soul."

"It's rather off-putting, you know."

I shrug and turn toward my father when he asks me a question.

"What's the big deal about working with Edward?"

"It _wouldn't _be a big deal if he wasn't such a jerk." My parents look a little confused, so I elaborate. "Edward and I don't get along."

Mom's eyebrows furrow together in concern and confusion. "Why ever not? And why is the first time we're hearing about it?"

"Mom, I'm not going to go running to you when someone doesn't like me. I'd be coming to you every single day. Besides, it's not important and nothing I can't handle on my own."

Rose scoffs. "Not important? He's being a big baby if he's still upset over something _accidental."_

"What happened?" Dad questions.

"Bella accidentally—"

"Rose," I groan at the same time she begins the story of what happened in Port Angeles. When she's done, Mom and Dad exchange amused looks.

"Maybe he's just having a bad day," Mom offers hopefully.

"Ma, he's been in a bad mood for _days_. That's one long bad day."

Mom shrugs. "You don't know what he's going through. Maybe he's having a hard time adjusting to the move."

I shrug. It's not really my problem, and I don't intend to make it my problem any time soon. As soon as this project is over with, I'm done with him.

"I'm guessing you have to work on this project outside of school?" Dad inquires, looking at me.

"Yep."

"When and where will that be?"

"I don't know. He's supposed to call."

Dad nods. "Let me know, okay? I have rules."

"Rules for him or for me?"

He gives me a look that clearly says "what do you think?" causing me to chuckle. "I don't know why_ I_ would need rules. I'm a wonderful daughter _and _an upstanding citizen. Besides, I'm kind of offended. Aren't you concerned about my honor? Isn't that how most fathers are? Where is the over-protectiveness?" I ask, sitting back with a fake huff as I throw my hands in the air, waving them around wildly.

"I don't have to worry about you. You're a ball buster."

"I feel ripped off, but fine. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something."

"Good. Maybe I'll have a chat with Edward as well if it'll make you feel better."

I nod and wave my hands in an enthusiastic "go ahead" motion. "Fine with me. Use your scary chief voice; that'll make him crap his pants."

He chuckles, and fortunately, all conversation about the Cullens ceases as Dad entertains us about the calls he received today. There's nothing like hearing about Mrs. Johnson beating the grocery store manager up with her purse because he wouldn't take her coupons or track down Mr. Phillips, who escaped from his retirement home because "they're aliens wanting to control his thoughts!"

It's just the thing I need to take my mind off of the impending doom headed my way. It's a dramatic way to think about completing an assignment with a classmate, but it's the truth … and it may very well be the last thing I do, especially if I'm left alone with Edward Cullen.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for your continued support with this story. It means a lot! **

**Huge thanks to Fran for beta'ing, and Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading. They're the best. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. I just borrow them. :D **

* * *

A cool sensation trails down the side of my face, starting from my temple and ending at my jawline. Startling from my deep sleep, I scramble toward my headboard swiping the side of my face, feeling the coolness of my skin.

From the bedroom door to my closet, I gaze everywhere, landing upon the middle section of my bay window, seeing it's halfway open. The purple and black striped curtain gently billows inward as the wind softly blows, whistling gently as it moves through the branches of the tree some feet away.

I can't recall leaving the window open, let alone _opening _it. Then again, I don't remember much of anything after passing out once I completed a rough outline of the project, so it's possible I _did _do it.

The wind blows again, bringing with it the crisp air of the night. It's a welcome feeling from the lingering heat of the day, but my eyes are starting to itch from the allergens being blown about.

As I leave the bed, I hiss as I step on a hairclip, the spiky teeth embedding in my tender flesh. Angrily, I kick it out of the way, satisfied with the sound of it bouncing off the wooden baseboard. I stagger to the window, my brain still foggy from sleep. I rub my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up, so I don't accidentally trip over my shoes or book bag and kill myself.

A strong gust of wind blows in, whistling loudly. Moments later, a muted thump from my left has my eyes popping open as all traces of sleep are jolted away.

Squinting into the darkness, I wait for my eyes to adjust and when they do, I immediately spot something amiss. One of my books is lying open on the floor, as if it was haphazardly tossed; the pages spread against the floor.

Gently, I pick it up, noting the title as I eye my bookcase with suspicion.

This book is the only one that's different from the horror novels, thrillers, and mysteries lining my shelf. It's a book of fairy tales, given to me by Aunt Lillian when I turned six. On the title page, her elegant cursive is still imprinted in the off-white paper, wishing her favorite niece a "magical" birthday.

It was the last gift she had given me before she and Uncle Jack died in a car accident.

I wonder how this had fallen onto the floor.

The books are jammed tightly on the bookshelf, though the space where this one was housed is empty, allowing the others to fall slack slightly.

Opening it, I quickly run through the pages as I try to think, the delicate flapping sound seemingly loud in the quiet of my room.

I _know _I hadn't left it out; in fact, I've hardly touched it this year; I was saving it for my annual re-read next month, around my birthday. Until then, it stays on the shelf, where I know it'll be safe from damage.

So, how had it fallen out?

Thinking hard, I do recall perusing my bookcase for something to read the other day; perhaps I had knocked it loose.

Deciding that must be it, I carefully put the book back and stand, reaching for the window. I pause, however, as another gust of wind comes blowing in, bringing with it a sweet leathery scent that has me closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath, allergies be damned.

_Is someone using a new fabric softener? I _have _to find out who it is and what they're using. Hell, I might even bathe in it!_

Another lungful of air has me immediately sneezing and my eyes watering. Underneath my allergy-induced attack, I do notice the scent is completely gone. I would believe my sense of smell has vanished thanks to my now stuffy nose, except I can clearly detect the ever-present fragrance of rain, evergreen, and grass.

_Weird._

Shaking my head, I pull the window down, catching a dark object darting into the woods.

_Probably the Stephens' dog. She's always getting loose. They better hope she comes back in one piece. _

Settling into bed, I attempt to get comfortable and fall back to sleep, but I can't. I feel restless, antsy, and itchy—something that strangely, has nothing to do with my allergies. Huffing, I throw back my covers and head into the hallway. Warm milk and allergy medicine should help me get my remaining hours of sleep.

Passing by Rose's room, I hear her softly murmuring. For a moment, I think she might have someone in there with her because her door is _never_ completely closed at night.

Pressing my ear against it, I try to listen harder, trying to determine if there's another voice, but all I hear is Rose's.

Slowly turning the knob and peeking inside, I see my conclusion is correct; Rose is alone, sprawled out on the bed, her arms over her head, her dark brown hair in knots and legs twisted and tangled in the sheet. Her head moves slowly from side to side as she mumbles.

Frowning slightly, I move toward her, wondering if I can make out what she's saying. She hardly ever talks in her sleep, and when she does, it's because she's extremely upset. To my knowledge, she hasn't been _that _distressed since freshman year.

Kneeling beside her, I hope to hear what is bothering her so I could help, but her words are all jumbled together.

The only thing that comes to mind is Emmett's constant bugging and trying to get her to go out on a date. If that's the cause, then tomorrow I'll be having a word with him, no matter what Mom says.

I can't understand anything she's muttering about, so I quietly tiptoe out and shut the door behind me. Heading downstairs, rolling my eyes as Jasper's snores filter from his room.

_And he says he doesn't snore … yeah, right. One night I'm so gonna taping this._

I drink down the milk and allergy meds, pausing to look out the window above the sink. Strangely, Dad's police cruiser is missing from its usual spot. I'm tempted to see if Mom is still awake and ask her what's going on but decide against it. If she were awake, she'd be down here, watching television.

After finishing my drink, I promptly go back to my room, ignoring the temptation of the book resting on my nightstand. If I stay up any later, I'll be even more difficult to rouse in the morning, and I don't want to be on Rose's shit list early in the day.

Just as I settle back down into my semi-cool bed, I notice my closet door is cracked open. I'm tempted to go over and close it, briefly wondering if I should be concerned someone is hiding there. Not only does it hold my clothes and keepsakes, but it also contains my artwork … something I only let a select few look at it.

As soon as the thought of someone hiding in filters through my head, I laugh it off.

_Who__ on earth would be stupid enough to break into the chief of police's house anyway?_

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

As expected, the next morning I'm more difficult to wake, but I rise with mom and Rose only threatening to pour cold water over me twice.

In order to give myself a little bit of added energy, I sing my favorite song and dance like a pro—in my own opinion, of course—all while I shower. In record time, I'm finished and running a comb through my hair, throwing on a shirt and a pair of jeans, and shoving my feet into my sneakers. Before I leave, I notice that either my mother or Rose—most likely, Rose; she's always complaining about my messy room—has picked up after me sometime this morning.

Dad is sleeping when we all arrive for breakfast, with Mom quietly explaining that he was called into work late last night. I ask what happened, considering calls after midnight are somewhat rare, but she simply replies that he hadn't told her anything.

A bad feeling lingers in my gut about _why _Dad was called out, but I manage to push it back as we pull into the parking lot at school. I spot Edward's car, and I sigh heavily, my head falling forward.

He didn't call me last night to set up a time like I thought he would. Instead, the only calls we received were from Mom's friends calling to gossip, and Dad's poker buddies. I tensed whenever the phone rang, wondering if it was him. It never was, much to my slight relief and displeasure.

I also noticed Dad looked worried whenever the phone rang too. Unfortunately, I couldn't interrogate him until he went into the kitchen for a glass of milk half an hour before bedtime. After cornering him, he reluctantly admitted that Gran, his mother, asked about coming up for Thanksgiving, which was in a couple of months. He stalled her, telling her he would let her know 'soon.'

Apparently, "soon" was a month ago and he's running out of time.

He's been looking for an excuse for her not to come, and he's fallen short. Ordinarily, Dad wouldn't hesitate this long before giving her an answer, but this year, Mom wants to cook Thanksgiving dinner. However, if Gran is here, she'll take over and Mom will be devastated.

Knowing the truth in this, I did give him an excuse.

Apparently, telling her we all have a deadly disease and that we're highly contagious is out of the question.

Emmett walks over as we get out of the car, passing Rose with a smile and side-eying her, murmuring something only she can hear. She ignores him and bids us a good day while Emmett starts on about a new video game he recently purchased.

As Rose walks away, I see a single white daisy tucked into the front pocket of her book bag; she doesn't notice it's there until she starts up the steps, her hand coming to gently caress the flower. It doesn't appear she's shocked by it being there, which is very peculiar and has me glancing over at Emmett suspiciously.

_Did Emmett put it there? Does Rose _know _he put it there? Are they dating? _

I think about the last question for a moment before quickly nixing the idea. Rose's behavior hasn't changed toward him, and I would think if they were dating, she would be a little nicer toward him.

Walking up to the guys, I wait for a moment when I can break in and ask about Edward's whereabouts to Emmett, but the pair just keep going on and on about all the cool aspects of the game and how they need to play it together soon.

With no end in sight, I take it upon myself to interrupt, asking Emmett where his brother is.

"Inside, I think. And hello to you too! Don't think you're not playing with us; I need to see your skills!"

I nod with a dismissive wave and march inside, looking through the small crowd of students standing around their lockers. At the end of the hall, I spot a familiar head of messy bronze hair and straighten my shoulders, walking forward with my head held high.

Alice is standing with him, facing my direction. She doesn't let on that she sees me, but her eyes sparkle humorously the closer I approach. Just as I'm right behind him, I grab his shoulder and try to jerk him around, but he foils my plans by turning with a slightly annoyed expression.

His eyes—which seem more golden honey-colored than the usual brownish red—narrow slightly as he looks from my hand to my face. I snatch my hand back; I'm sure he was thinking about ways to severe my appendage, but I wasn't going to give him much time to think about it, let alone act on it.

"You spun?"

My mouth drops open as I stare, trying to comprehend the tone of his words.

Is he trying to be humorous? Or sarcastic?

With the blank stare I'm receiving, I'll go with sarcasm.

Collecting myself, I square my shoulders and meet his gaze unwaveringly.

"You were supposed to call last night so we could set up a time to work on our project for history."

"There was something else I had to do first. By the time I got finished, it was too late, but I talked to my parents, and they agreed to you coming over to my house this afternoon to work on it." His voice is tight, but not nearly as hostile or curt as it has been in the past.

I grimace and notice Edward doesn't appear entirely thrilled with the idea either, but he doesn't seem disgusted by the thought of me being in his home like I thought he would. He simply looks apprehensive.

"You could ask me if I'm available to come over, you know."

"Are you available to come over this afternoon?" He questions, his voice monotone.

"You're so charming."

He smirks, bending slightly at the waist, coming closing to me. "I do try."

My breathing halts and my vision blurs for a moment at his proximity before I collect myself.

_What in the hell is wrong with me? I must have the flu or something. _

"Don't go to so much effort," I tell him, holding my hands up and stepping back. "I wouldn't want you to burst a vessel or something."

I ignore his smirk by pointedly looking away at a random spot on the wall. I really wish this wasn't such a last-minute thing, but maybe we can get it all done this afternoon. "Can't we go to the library or something?"

In my opinion, the more public, the better.

"The library will be packed with our classmates."

Begrudgingly, I nod, knowing he's right. It'll be a madhouse. I would tell him to come to my house, but it won't be any quieter there either. However, it _will _be on my turf … but having him in my house? I'm not too sure about that.

It's a definite lose-lose situation.

"Fine. I have to call my parents and ask them."

He says nothing, only nodding in response and moves aside with an annoyed sigh as Alice shoves his arm. She steps up to me, her smile big.

"I'm excited you're coming over, I have something to show you," she excitedly says.

Edward, looking less than pleased, points out the obvious. "She's coming to work on the project with me, Alice, not visit you."

Alice rolls her eyes and nods, but a look of apprehension fills her face. "I know, but maybe after you're done I can steal you away?"

"My parents have to say yes, first," I tell her. "I have to have an alibi every night of the week. Otherwise, the townsfolk will come after me with pitchforks. Medieval bastards."

Alice laughs, and even Edward manages to crack a small smile, but it's not there for long.

"When will you be able to call your parents?"

"During lunch."

He nods in response, mumbling a goodbye to his sister.

"Bye, Edward! It was _lovely _talking to you again!" I shout with a sarcastic overtone in my voice. He doesn't react; he keeps walking forward.

Alice's laugh slowly trails off as Jasper walks by, his eyes darting to mine for a quick second, seemingly conveying a silent message before walking away.

I have no idea what he's trying to tell me, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

Alice stares after him, her eyes saddened and her lips pulled into a frown. While I've never felt an unrequited crush before, I can honestly say after witnessing the pain Alice is going through, I never want to.

"I guess we should get to class," I say quietly.

"Yeah," she replies forlornly, her fingers twisting together. She looks like she wants to say something, but whatever it is, she keeps it to herself.

I'm not sure what to say to her, so I remain silent.

8*8*8*8*8*8

When lunch rolls around, I set my things on my table and step outside into the small courtyard the school put here for sunny days. It only gets used a handful of times out of the school year; usually, it's too cold, too wet or too muggy otherwise.

Leaning against the wood tabletop, I dial my mother's cell phone and tuck my free hand into the pocket of my jeans, hunching my shoulders against the wind beating against my back.

"Bella? Is everything okay? What's happened?" Her greeting is panicked and worried, slightly overlapping the chattering going on in the background before fading completely with the slam of a door.

"Everything is fine, Mom. I have to work on a history project with Edward, and I need to go over to his house this afternoon. Is that okay?"

"Is that all?" She sighs, obviously relieved. "Yes, that's fine. I'll tell your father. Will you be home for dinner?"

"I hope so," I mumble.

"Bella," she scolds lightly. "Don't say such things."

"I'm kidding … kind of."

She heaves a sigh, but her words are happy and confident. "Everything will be fine."

I nod, even though she can't see me. I'm not sure I really believe her words, but I can hope that with Alice, Emmett, and possibly one of the parents there, Edward _won't _kill me.

"Be sure to text your father and me when you get there. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, we'll come get you."

"Do you know where they live?" I ask, confused. They've never mentioned knowing their address, but I'm sure they do, considering Jasper has been there before.

Through the phone, I hear a faraway voice, calling for my mother.

"Okay, I'll be right there!" She replies, her tone muffled. "Do you need anything else, honey?"

"Nope. I'll text you when I leave school."

"Good. I'll see you later. Bye."

I turn my phone off and shove it back in my pocket, heading back to the cafeteria. The double doors slam open just as I reach for them and Lauren and Royce saunter out.

"Well, well." He smiles, his hand running down his chest. "Look what we have here. Little Bella all alone."

Lauren sneers and laughs.

"Does it really surprise you, Royce? Bella Swan is a freak. You know," she says, addressing me, "you're going to die alone."

I roll my eyes. "Why don't you two go back to the sewers, I'm sure you're missed. By the way, how's Mike?"

Lauren's hands clench as she steps forward. "You bitch! You are nothing but a waste of space. You should disappear, but for now, I'll be satisfied with beating you to a pulp."

She rears her fist back, and I sidestep her, watching with amusement as she stumbles past me, her arms flailing outward. Once she gains her footing, she spins around with a glare while I laugh and turn to her partner.

"You going to have a girl fight your battles, Royce?"

He glowers, huffing a breath through his nose, and steps toward me. "I've had enough of your mouth."

Straightening my back and squaring my shoulders, I plant my feet firmly on the ground as I meet his gaze with a defiant look of my own, being sure to watch where his hands are.

As he raises a single hand and makes a motion to strike, I ready myself to move, but he never touches me. Lauren rushes to his side, grabbing his arm with wide eyes and yanks him back. He's caught off guard and staggers back a few feet, almost falling to the ground, but manages to catch himself.

"What the hell is your problem?" he barks, trying to throw her off, but she manages to hang on, her eyes still trained on something behind me.

Turning, I see Edward standing there, his eyes dark and narrowed, his jaw taut and lips in a thin line. His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stares at the pair in front of me. I'm equal parts fascinated, awed ... and something else I can't name that feels disturbingly good.

"What's going on here?" Edward questions.

Without answering, Royce shuffles his way to the left before jumping over the chainlink fence and running to the front of the school, leaving Lauren alone. She swallows audibly and backs up farther, looking for a way out.

"Hello, Edward," she coos, bringing a finger to the collar of her shirt as she tugs it down slightly with a flirty smile. "It's _so _nice to see you."

"Answer the question," he says, the words coming out as a low growl.

I try to ignore how my stomach flips and a pleasurable tingle sings throughout my system as he comes to stand by my side.

Weird. What is that? Stomach flu? Virus? Contaminated cafeteria food?

"Why do you care?" She questions, a slight edge of desperation in her tone. "You hate her as much as we do! Everyone can see it."

"I won't ask again." He glares at her, his eyes darkening and his jaw tightening as he grinds his teeth.

"I wasn't doing anything," she rushes out. "I was just—"

"Going to help Royce attack Bella. That's what it looked like to me," he finishes. "Or am I wrong?"

"No, I—I wasn't going to do anything to her." She laughs nervously, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Of course you weren't," I agree, taking a step forward. "Because you don't have the guts, am I right?"

Lauren opens her mouth to answer, but only a squeak comes out, and I give her a placating smile in return.

"Well?"

"Um …"

"Exactly. Now, run along. Fast as you can."

At my words, she scampers off, retreating with her tail between her legs. I turn to Edward, who is standing much closer to me than he was before.

"Are you all right?"

I give him an incredulous look, wondering where his sudden burst of concern is coming from … and _why _he seems so worried in the first place.

"I'm fine," I reply slowly. "I can take care of myself."

He looks skeptical at my words, and I can practically hear what he's thinking: _it was two versus one, how could you possibly think you could take that on by yourself. You can't be that stupid. _

Well, newsflash for him, I _can _be that stupid.

_Wait, what? _

"Do you honestly think you could have taken on two attackers?" He asks, creepily similar to what I believed he was thinking.

_Whoa. Maybe I _am _a supervillain. _

I roll my eyes, scoffing. "Of course I could have. Lauren can't fight worth shit, and Royce can be taken care of _very _easily. I've done it in the past."

Edward shakes his head, a frustrated expression on his face. "That was _one _time. What makes you think you can win again?"

"It more than _one _time," I tell him, mimicking the way he sneered the word. "I know how to fight, Edward. My father and Rose taught me."

"You should still be careful."

"Noted,_ Dad_. Thanks."

He huffs, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He looks like he wants to say something more, but remains quiet for a moment. "Were you able to contact your parents?"

"Yep. I can come over this afternoon."

"Good. I want to get started on it right away."

I shrug. The sooner we get it done, the sooner I can be away from him. "Fine by me. I already have a rough outline done," I mention, digging through my bag and handing it over. "Here. Look it over, and we'll discuss it later."

Turning, I head toward the cafeteria doors, nearly getting hit for the second time as they burst open. This time, Jasper steps through, his eyes wide with worry.

"Edward, you need come; Emmett sent me. Alice—"

Without waiting for him to finish, Edward takes off in a flash, rushing inside and heading straight toward Emmett, who is sitting by his sister, talking to her quietly. Emmett shifts out of the way switching places with Edward, his attention solely on his sister, who remains unresponsive and dazed-looking.

Her eyes are halfway open, but it's enough for me to see that they have a strange, milky film over them, similar to what I had seen before.

Next to me, Jasper is breathing heavily, his face flushed and his unblinking eyes fixed on Alice. His hands fidget at his sides, his nails scratching against the denim of his jeans. I nudge him gently and give him a small smile. While he gives one back, it's not genuine or relaxed.

At the table behind me, I hear the frenzied whispers and muffled laughter of the students in the cafeteria and turn, narrowing my eyes, silently daring anyone to say anything more. They freeze, and their gazes drop to the table.

After a minute, Edward takes Alice's hand, holding it firmly as he whispers to her.

With a choked gasp, she's alert again, her eyes wild and panicked. She starts to speak, her words coming out jumbled and rushed. Apparently, Edward and Emmett understand because they both lean in close and murmur quickly in her ears.

They pull away, and Alice looks up at me as if she's about to cry. Edward pulls her close to him, and she rests her head on his shoulder, nodding at whatever he says.

"Emmett, can you get the car started and make a call?" Edward requests as he helps her stand.

He nods and races out, keys in hand before Alice can say anything.

"No," she argues weakly. "I … I can stay here. It's over, now."

"Alice …"

"I'll be okay. I just need a few minutes alone."

He sighs, clearly not liking her answer, but agrees nonetheless. "Fine. What about your stuff?"

"I'll make sure Emmett grabs them when he comes back," I volunteer.

Edward gives a grateful nod and leads Alice out of the room. To be honest, I'm amazed at the love and concern he has for his sister. I've never seen him look so tender toward someone, and despite his rudeness toward me, it's evident he cares deeply for his family. Something I admire greatly.

Once they're gone, the chatter again increases. Turning, I give them all a dirty look, quieting them down to low murmurs once more.

A minute later, Emmett comes back and laughs at the dark look I'm giving my classmates.

"Don't worry about them, Lydia. Alice is tough as nails; she won't be concerned about anything they say."

"Doesn't matter." I shrug. "If I can stop it at the pass, I will. Is she going to be okay?"

Emmett nods. "Oh yeah, she'll be fine. A few minutes of regrouping and she'll be back to normal."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and Jasper does the same.

"What happened to her?" Jasper asks. "She just … screamed out of nowhere and spaced-out."

"She gets bad headaches sometimes, causes her a lot of pain. They come on pretty suddenly. They disorient her a lot. Edward seems to be the only one who can bring her out when she's like that. It's weird."

Now that I know Alice will be okay, something Emmett said to me comes flying back.

"Did you call me Lydia?"

"I did! You know, from _Beetlejuice. _You remind me of her. Not in looks, really. But you seem to have her 'dark side' working for you," Emmett explains.

"I never thought of that," Jasper inputs. "They do have a similar personality."

"See? Even Jasper agrees," Emmett says with a wide smile.

"Okay," I draw out. "And I thought _I _was the weird one here."

The bell rings, and I hand Emmett Alice's books as he bids us goodbye, his eyes flitting to the other side of the room, no doubt looking at Rose.

"What exactly happened with Alice?" I question, extremely curious. I've seen slightly spaced out before, but never to _that _extreme. "You said she screamed?"

I wonder if it really is just headaches as Emmett says. Something tells me there's more to the situation than meets the eye.

Jasper's face clouds over with worry, looking toward the double doors leading out of the cafeteria, where Edward and Alice disappeared.

"I didn't see much beforehand. I just happened to look over right before she screamed. Then, Emmett jumped up and ran over before she was done. I've never seen him move so fast." He shakes his head, an astonished look on his face as he follows me out into the hall. "I guess … maybe she has a medical condition? That's what Emmett was alluding to, I think. With the headaches?" He pauses for a moment. "I don't know. It was weird."

I make a noncommittal sound, not entirely sure. When I voice this, Jasper laughs, looking at me as if I've lost my mind. "What else would it be, Bella?"

Frowning, I shrug. "I don't know," I reply, navigating through the crowded hallway. "So, you seemed pretty concerned about Alice."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not a monster."

I laugh, knowing that while he's not fond of her, he wouldn't ever want her hurt or injured.

"Why were you outside with Edward?" Jasper inquires, changing the subject. "I thought you two couldn't stand each other. Did something change?"

I ignore the teasing in his words and roll my eyes. "You know, we go to the same school and live in the same small town, so we're bound to end up in the same places eventually." Jasper gives me a disbelieving look, and I roll my eyes. "I was outside calling Mom about going over to the Cullen house this afternoon for our project. He was just there … I think he was trying to _save _me from Royce and Lauren?" I end it in a question because I genuinely have no idea what he was doing.

His eyes narrow. "What happened?"

"They were trying to gang up on me. Well, _Lauren _was trying to gang up on me. Royce was standing back like the pansy he is."

"Bella," he groans, his head falling forward in exasperation. "You need—"

"To be careful, I know." I finish for him.

He blows out a breath, looking at little more at ease, but not much. Suddenly, a smile appears on his lips. "Edward was trying to save you, huh?" He laughs, shaking his head. "He'll learn sooner or later that you can save yourself."

"Pfft. I'm not going to be around him that much for him to "save" me. After this project is done—and hopefully it'll be done tonight—I'm not going to be talking to him, let alone be around him."

"You never know," he says, ignoring my hard look. "Besides, this just proves he doesn't hate you, you know."

I sputter. "What? How do you come to _that _conclusion?"

"He wouldn't defend you if he didn't like you in some way, dummy."

I shake my head. "_Or_ maybe he just wants to do the job himself. After all, he wouldn't get much pleasure if someone else beat him to the punch. Literally and figuratively." Jasper gives me an unamused look, and I ignore him.

"Bella, I know you two don't get along, but he's not _that _bad. He wouldn't wish harm upon anyone."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know it, and I _feel _it. I can't explain it thoroughly. There's just something else there. He doesn't want you to get hurt."

I shake my head. I think his feelings on this are way off. He's never been kind or even polite to me. Sure, I know he's capable of being nice, as I just saw, but he's never been that way with me, and I don't think he ever will. All I know is that his glares and general bad attitude are clear enough to me.

Jasper sighs heavily, knowing whatever he says won't change my opinion. It's not that I don't trust him, but it's not like Edward will come out and tell _my _cousin he hates me, so his view on things is a little distorted.

"So you're going over there this afternoon, then?"

"Yep," I reply, unenthusiastic.

"It won't be that bad."

"Won't be that bad?" I repeat. "Haven't you worked with someone who can't stand you and vice versa? Has that _ever _gone well?"

"I don't know. I haven't been that lucky," he says with a grin.

I give him a hard push, trying to hide my smile, but it's impossible. "Jerk. Will you tell Rose where I'll be so she doesn't have to wait for me?"

Jasper meets up with Rose before I do in the afternoon, so it'll be easier for him to tell her instead of me seeking her out. I would just send a text, but she doesn't turn on her phone during school hours.

"Sure. Do you want me to come with you? You know, moral support?"

I give him an unamused look. "Do I look like a child who needs someone to hold her hand through everything?"

He looks at me with a straight face. "Yes."

"I swear," I mutter to myself. "No, I don't need you to come with me. I can handle Edward."

"If anyone would be successful, it would be you."

"Of course," I reply with fake haughtiness. "I'm the most awesome person on the planet. I can handle everything."

"And so modest."

I laugh and start to wave goodbye, but Jasper catches my arm at the last moment. "If you see Edward or Alice … will you ask if she's okay?"

"Worried?" I ask, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. I receive a hard look in response and nod. I know he's worried, despite his feelings—or lack thereof—toward Alice. He's a good person and I'm glad he's my family.

"No problem."

As I walk into my next class, I silently wish I had the ability to slow down time; for all I care, this afternoon can take its sweet ass time getting here, because I am not looking forward to what's coming.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for missing last week's posting. There was a family emergency. **

**Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews! I appreciate your support so much! **

**Fran, thank you for fixing my mistakes (and there a lot!) Mr G and Me and Monica03, thank you for pre-reading. The three of you are awesome! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

When the last bell rings, I can feel dread weigh down on me if I've been encased in concrete. Every step toward the door drags until I'm outside. I have a bad feeling about this afternoon, and normally, my feelings are pretty spot on.

Honestly, I think I'm wasting my time going over there; Edward was noticeably absent from the rest of our shared classes, which didn't help my feeling much. Plus, Alice obviously isn't well, so she probably doesn't want company.

There's always Emmett to hang out with, I suppose. He seems like a pretty cool guy, though I'm sure Rose would disagree.

Scanning over the parking lot, I look for Edward, but come up empty. He's not loitering around the parking lot like the rest of the students are, nor is he brooding by his car. He could still be inside, but that's highly unlikely.

I guess I'll have to see when the school finally empties.

With a heavy sigh, I start to trudge through the crowd, but I notice a guy standing near the front steps, wearing a burnt orange button-up shirt and black jeans, with black-rimmed glasses covered by his shaggy, medium brown hair.

As I walk by him, he holds his hand out, as if to stop me, but drops it back down, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. Pausing, I stare at him for a moment, wondering what he wants. I've never seen him around here before, and I doubt he's a new student; Jasper would have told me if someone new was starting school this week. Plus, as I take a closer look, I see he's a little older than I am, but not by much.

"Can I help you?"

He blinks a few times, his mouth popping open slightly. Looking around with wide eyes, he finally realizes I'm speaking to him. Chuckling nervously, his cheeks turn pink as he turns his gaze to the ground before looking back up at me through his hair and glasses. "Uh, yeah. Do you know Lauren Mallory?"

Automatically, I grimace, and to my surprise, he laughs, pushing the hair out of his eyes. Now that the obstruction is gone, I notice his eyes are a deep sea green that's such a vibrant color it takes my breath away. "Yeah, that's the most common reaction I get when people hear her name."

"I can imagine."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No. Thank heavens for small miracles." I give him a suspicious look, wondering why this seemingly nice guy is looking for Lauren.

He snorts humorously, brushing his hair away from his eyes again, but it's of little use; it flops back into his eyes the second he moves his hand, holding it out for me to shake. "If only we could all be so lucky. I'm Arthur, Lauren's cousin."

My eyes move from his hand to his face, wondering if he's serious. But the longer he remains expectant, the more I see he is. Placing my hand in his, I shake it once with a smile.

"Cousin, huh? My condolences."

"Yeah. It's been wonderful being related to her," he says dryly.

"I bet. I'm Bella."

"Arthur," Lauren hisses, marching up to us, her eyes darting around the parking lot. "What the hell are you doing here, loser? I thought once you moved to Seattle, I wouldn't have to see your ugly ass face anymore!"

"I'm here to visit my mother, your aunt, who's in the hospital. Did you forget that tidbit of information, you selfish brat?"

Lauren rolls her eyes while my own widen. Arthur may seem like a nerdy pushover, but obviously he can take the punches and get in a few hits of his own.

"Oh, fuck off. I'm _not _going to see that bitch or spend time with that asshole of a father of mine. As far as I'm concerned, they can both disappear along with you."

I wish I could say I'm shocked by her words, but I'm not. This seems like typical Lauren behavior.

Arthur doesn't seem shocked either. He simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but I don't miss the wince when Lauren wishes her aunt and father would both disappear.

"Yeah, your dad and I thought you might react this way, so he told me to tell you this, and I quote: 'if you don't get your ass in the car right now, you'll be doing volunteer work for the hospital and spending the summer at Aunt Michele's in Wisconsin.'"

Lauren's mouth pops open comically, and I can't hold back the laughter that erupts. Lauren's furious gaze turns at me as her jaw clenches.

"What in the hell is so funny, freak?"

She takes a step toward me and grabs my arm, digging her nails into my skin, but two things happen simultaneously. Arthur grabs my free arm and pulls me behind him, and Edward appears out of nowhere, scaring both Lauren and Arthur … and startling me in the process.

Damn him and his ninja feet.

Recovering from his shock and looking at Edward nervously, he addresses Lauren, speaking tightly. "Lauren, get your spoiled, bitchy ass in the car. We don't have time for this."

She glares at him and huffs, stomping off to his beat-up car and folding herself down in the passenger seat so she can't be seen. I shake my head at her behavior and glance between Arthur and Edward, the latter focusing intently on the hand still on my arm.

"You okay?" Arthur questions, twisting my arm slightly so he can observe the damage.

It's not bad; the indentations from Lauren's acrylic nails are fading already, with no sign of bruising or bleeding.

"I'm fine. She's done worse, honestly."

Arthur frowns and shakes his head, sucking in air through his teeth. "I keep telling my uncle she's out of control. Maybe one day he'll do something about it instead of hoping she'll change."

Someone clearing their throat interrupts, and I look over at Edward, whose eyes dart from me to Arthur's hand still on my arm.

"We should get going, Bella."

Arthur's face reddens as he quickly snatches his hand away from me, taking a step backward.

"Sorry. I, uh, I didn't realize …" he points between the two of us, swallowing loudly as he takes another step back, shaking his head.

My eyes bug out of my head as I catch his meaning and I have to wonder how he came to _that _conclusion? There's no chemistry between Edward and me … nor do we even look like we'd date. We hate each other … doesn't that show ... or emit some kind of energy? If it doesn't, I'm deeply disappointed.

Before I can tell him his assumption is wrong, he takes another step backward, and his eyes shift everywhere except for my face.

"Right. Anyway, I'm sorry about Lauren. It was nice meeting you."

Arthur spins around and jogs over to a beat-up, four-door car that's seen better days and quickly drives out of the lot, Lauren glaring at him from the passenger seat.

Across the lot, Alice is standing beside her brother's car, waving enthusiastically and hopping on her feet, like she's afraid I'll miss her or something. I blink in shock, surprised she's moving so heartily when hours ago, she looked like she'd keel over at any moment.

Beside me, Edward laughs lightly, his eyes on his sister.

I stare at him, noting how strange it is to see him smiling; not because of how little he does it, but because of how _different _he looks. The hardness that is usually present when he's looking at me is gone, replaced with a youthful, carefree face and sparkling eyes that hold humor and secrets. He looks more like a kid, rather than a psycho who wants to dump someone in the well he has in the basement.

Sensing my stare, the happiness fades, replaced by indifference. He clears his throat, a hand going to his hair as he shuffles to the side, looking at his sister—and now, Emmett—making fools of themselves as they wave at us from across the lot.

"Let's get going and get this project done. Come on."

Without another word, he strides across the parking lot, exchanging a quick word with his siblings, who ignore his words and continue waving. Edward scowls at them, sliding into the driver's seat, leaning his back with his eyes trained on me.

His eyes narrow and he brings one hand to rest on the steering wheel, his long fingers tapping rhythmically on the dashboard while his other hand impatiently waves me forward.

My own eyes narrow; I can't help that he has long, speedier legs than I do.

Briefly, I debate about whether or not I should purposely slow my steps just to piss him off.

Although I'm tempted, I don't want to piss him off when he's driving me somewhere. He might leave me in the middle of nowhere for dead; I'm too young, and I have too many people to piss off to die just yet.

With a heavy sigh, I start heading over toward the Cullen's, when Rose calls my name from behind. She jogs up to me, her eyes flashing over my shoulder for a moment before returning to me.

"You okay? I saw you with Lauren."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Good. Do you have a minute?"

"Not really, but I'll take one anyway."

Her lips quirk in a smile, but it quickly vanishes as she gives me a hard stare. "Did something happen today? Between you, Royce, and Edward?"

For a brief moment, I wonder where she heard about that. I know all it takes is one person to see something, but as far as I know, no one did, and I highly doubt Lauren or Royce would say anything.

Jasper.

I close my eyes and grit my teeth, knowing it had to have been him. Sometimes he's so overprotective it's annoying. I know he means well and probably thinks I need another girl to talk to, but honestly, nothing happened with Royce and Lauren, so why would he worry her unnecessarily?

"No, why?" I ask, plastering an innocent expression on my face.

Rose's eyes narrow as she stares at me in silence. "That's not what I heard. Jasper told me what happened ... and I _also_ heard Edward threatened Royce after lunch today … over you."

"What?" I ask, confused. I expected her to relay the events I had told Jasper, not that _Edward _of all people had threatened Royce because of me. It's just silly to think about. Why would he do such a thing, _if _he had? It's clear Edward isn't my biggest fan, and there's no way he would track him down, and tell him to leave me alone.

No way in hell.

"No," I say with a laugh. "That didn't happen, I can tell you for certain. It's just a stupid rumor."

Seriously, who came up with _that_ one? Whoever it was, they have a good imagination.

"You sure?"

I give her a "duh" look, which she doesn't appreciate. "Pretty sure. Edward wouldn't defend me."

She hums under her breath and looks at something over my shoulder before looking at me again. "All right. I'll let you go; Edward looks like he's losing his patience. If you need to, you call me, and I'll come get you, okay?"

I nod, and noting the worry in her eyes, I promise to call if I need to. Behind us, a car horn blares loudly, once. A few other students jump and scream before trailing off in nervous laughter. Rose's eyes narrow at something over my shoulder, and following her line of sight, I see Emmett and Alice frowning at their brother, both of them speaking and gesturing wildly.

Emmett smacks Edward hard on the shoulder, sending him flying toward the steering wheel while Alice flicks his forehead, shaking a finger at him. Edward doesn't look happy but looks thoroughly reprimanded and apologetic.

When I turn back toward Rose, preparing to tell her I'm leaving, I notice a combination of a smile and a smirk on her lips as she stares at the scene unfolding behind us.

Sensing my stare, her face goes neutral, and she leans forward, giving me a quick, but tight hug.

"Don't take any shit from him. Bye."

Waving goodbye, I narrow my eyes at Jasper, who pales and looks away, avoiding my gaze. I'll be talking to him later, for sure.

Once Rose pulls out of the parking lot, I feel dread slither up my spine and send a feeling of a thousand needles through my body. Now, I have no choice but to leave with the Cullens. Sure, I could walk home, but that would be exercising. Blah.

"You look mighty excited," Emmett teases as I walk up, heaving my backpack strap up on my shoulder, tightly holding on to the rough material.

"I'm thrilled," I reply, no enthusiasm in my voice whatsoever.

Emmett laughs, picking me up and twirling me around once. When I'm back on my feet, and the world stops going around in circles, I give him a dirty look, trying to fight my smile at his goofy, dimpled grin.

"What was that for?"

"I wanted to make you smile. It worked," he says, pointing and poking me in various places. "Don't deny it. You can't can you?"

I shimmy myself away from him, laughing and squirming. "How old are you? Four?"

"Ah, come on! I'm the master at making people smile. Admit it!" he bellows.

"I will admit nothing without a lawyer."

Emmett laughs, leaning toward me with a sneaky grin as he shoots a quick look toward his brother. "Don't worry about jackass, there. If he needs to be sorted out, just holler for me. I'll pull the stick out of his ass."

My lips twitch, but the smile that's fighting its way there falls when Edward's voice irritably calls out through the open window. "Are you coming?"

"Yes, your pleasantness."

With the way things are going so far, maybe being left for dead won't be such a bad idea, after all.

"It's going to be great!" Alice trills, clapping her hands once.

I force a smile. "You look better."

She nods. "I just had a bad headache. All is good now."

I give a barely-there a nod, sparing a fleeting glance at Edward, who looks at me with a puzzled expression, but quickly masks it when he sees me looking.

"By the way, did you _honk _at me?" I question once I slide into the passenger side back seat.

"No, I—"

I raise a single eyebrow, and he brings his hands down from the steering wheel, looking at them intently for a moment before turning in his seat, looking directly into my eyes.

"It was an accident. My hand slipped, honest. Nevertheless, I'm sorry."

There's a moment of brief heavy silence; out of the corner of my eye, I see Alice gaping at her brother and Emmett doing the same in front of me. I would turn to look at them head-on, to get the full picture of shock on their faces, but there's something in Edward's gaze that has me frozen, unable to look away.

Like them, I'm completely shocked he's apologizing for the _second _time. I never thought he'd be able to say he was sorry for anything, considering he still hasn't apologized for our first encounter in Port Angeles … so what makes this situation so different? Both times he was rude and aggravating, and this time, it's not even as bad as before, so why apologize for _this? _

My brain comes up with two articulate responses; one being very polite and thanking him for his apology while the other is the complete opposite and very me: sarcastic and a little bitchy.

Instead, all that leaves my mouth is, "Uh …"

Despite this, Edward looks expectant, waiting for me to finish my thought, though I can see humor dancing in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's all good," I eventually say, clearing my throat.

Edward smiles a little, turning forward and starting the car, speeding out of the parking lot almost as fast as Rose has done on occasion.

Instantly, my head is full of images of the two of them street racing in the dead of night, the sound of engines roaring and cheering being the only thing you can hear. I would never admit this verbally, but I think the race between them would be evenly matched.

"So, Bella," Emmett begins, turning his head, a mischievous smile playing on his face. "Who was that guy you were with? New boyfriend?"

Edward's hands grip the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white.

Watching him curiously, I wonder if he's one those people that has a no talking policy in his car.

"No. I just met him."

"There were sparks between you two," he teases.

Beside me, Alice nods enthusiastically, a huge smile on her face as she stares at the back of Edward's head, strangely enough.

"I think you're seeing things," I reply

Emmett shakes his head before winking at me. "Naw, there was some chemistry."

"You were too far away, and besides, why does it matter to you? It's not your concern."

Emmett pretends to wince, holding a hand over his heart. "Ouch! Right in the feels, woman! But honestly, good point. It's none of my business … but you know what? I like you. You're feisty, and you're a pretty awesome chick. I'm just giving you a hard time. It's my duty now."

"Is it?" I ask with a light laugh.

"Yes! You're my friend and hard times must be given at random, uncomfortable times. It's in the rulebook."

Once more, I laugh.

In all honesty, I'm not bothered by his teasing. I know Jasper would do the exact same thing, so it's actually somewhat of a comfort. Besides, Emmett is a pretty decent guy, despite his tendency to act like a little kid sometimes.

Case in point, Emmett leans over the console to whisper something to Edward, a smirk on his face that I've come to learn means nothing good. My suspicions are confirmed when Edward sends him a scathing look.

"Can we have silence for the rest of the drive?" He barks, making Emmett chuckle.

Alice sighs with a shake of her head and starts up a quiet conversation about an upcoming movie she saw the trailer to this morning.

Five minutes later, we're at their house.

Their driveway is mostly made of grass, with worn tire tracks leading the way and framed with thick trees, creating an enclosed atmosphere that would make normal people feel as if they were heading into a horror movie. To me, however, this is great.

The lining of trees gets thinner as the ground below turns into a concrete path, and before I know it, their house comes into view and takes my breath away.

The structure is large, framed in dark wood and stone in a beautiful charcoal color. The windows are large enough that, I imagine, they bring in a lot of light but aren't too large where you can look inside and spy on the occupants. The concrete path leads around to the back of the house where the garage probably is. On the other side of the house is a glass enclosure with thick, lush plants lined around the windows, which looks to be a greenhouse.

The yard in front is mildly decorated with more bushes and a few scatterings of colorful flowers that must not require much sunlight to grow.

"Wow," is all I can say as I stand beside the car, looking up at what the Cullens call home.

Edward clears his throat gaining my attention as I stand entranced, marveling at his home. I'm surprised he's standing so close to me, close enough that if one of us were to turn, we'd come into full contact with one another. I try not to let my surprise show and look at him questioningly.

"I have something to do really quickly before we get started. I won't be too long, okay?" He softly says, looking into my eyes. I don't think he's ever looked at me this long before, especially when he was speaking to me.

"Uh, sure. Yeah. It's fine."

"Okay." He nods once. He's inside before I can ask him exactly _where_ we'll be doing this project. I guess I'll have to ask someone else or just pick a spot.

Emmett grins, eyeing me with a mischievous twinkle.

"What?"

He shrugs. "Nothing. It's just … amusing."

"So glad I can entertain you," I sarcastically drawl. "That's what I was put on earth for."

"I don't know about _that. _I think you might serve another purpose."

"Don't you have homework?" Alice questions her brother before I can reply. I wonder what _he _thinks my purpose is. I have my own theories, but it's always nice to hear someone else's. "Go inside."

Emmett raises his hands and slowly backs away toward the house. "Fine. I know when I'm not wanted. Hey, Bella! If there's plenty of time afterward, you're gaming with me. No backing out!" He shouts, pointing at me before running into the house, yelling my arrival.

"I swear he was raised by heathens!" Alice mumbles as she entwines her arm with mine. "Ready to go in? It's going to rain soon."

Just as we step on to the porch, I hear the first pings of water hitting the ground and the car a few feet away. I stare at Alice with wide eyes, wondering how she knew it was going to rain. Granted, this _is_ Forks, and it rains a lot, but how could she tell at that exact moment? It's been overcast since the sun came up, the gray clouds threatening a downpour ever since.

She ignores my shock and waltzes into the house, calling for her mother.

I follow behind. "How'd you know it was going to rain?"

Alice shrugs, smiling, though it seems off. "What can I say? I'm psychic."

Unable to help myself, I laugh. I wish it were possible to see the future; it would certainly make things easier in my life.

I'm even more in awe of the interior of this beautiful house. The first thing I see when entering is a staircase, lined with a dark cherry rug, leading up to the landing. My eyes scan the wall along it, taking in the photos that line the walls.

"This is the living room," Alice starts, waving her arms around. I take in everything, from the dark stained floors, the colorful paintings hanging on the off-white walls, the plush couch, and armchairs that are situated in front of the large, flat-screen television. There's a long hallway that reveals a dining set, and I surmise it also leads to the kitchen and eating area.

'Cause I'm knowledgeable like that.

On the same wall where the television sits is an open doorway, where I can see more couches and a partial bookcase filled to the brim with books. "That's what my parents call a 'reading room.' It has a sliding door for more privacy." Alice shows me the frosted glass door hidden between the walls as she leads me through the warm room, painted in a soft beige with a fireplace on the outside wall. I stop in the middle and gaze around with wide eyes, knowing if I could get away with it, I would move in here permanently and never leave … if only a person who hated me wasn't living here too.

Alice laughs at my expression, and I shrug my shoulders, not caring that I'm probably making a fool of myself. I love books and small spaces to read them, and I'm not ashamed.

Alice walks over to another door, sliding it open, revealing a kitchen with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. I walk through the space, thinking my kitchen at home can fit in here twice and still have room left over.

"Over here is the garage." Alice points to a door with two deadbolts and skips over to another door with a single lock a few feet away. "This is the enclosed pool." She opens the door, revealing that the structure I thought was a greenhouse is actually a pool, complete with a small waterfall that echoes beautifully in the space.

"The next level is my mother and father's office and library and a few bedrooms. The third level is more bedrooms."

"You have a very cool house," I tell her, appreciation and awe in my tone.

"Thank you," a new voice says behind me. I turn around, seeing a woman in her early to middle thirties walk in, her caramel hair lying in waves on her shoulders. Her eyes—the same color as her children—are emanating kindness. She reminds me of those pictures of housewives in the forties and fifties, looking very prim and proper, but radiating a motherly feel. "With three teenagers, everyone needs their own space, and we have plenty of it. I'm Esme Cullen." Her smile is soft and welcoming. I feel completely at ease around her, which is strange, because I'm often somewhat tense around adults, but for some reason, Esme Cullen gives off an easygoing vibe that makes me feel comfortable.

"Bella Swan. You have a kick-as—great home, Mrs. Cullen," I say, remembering my manners.

"Please, call me Esme."

I nod. "Okay, Mrs. E."

She laughs and gestures behind her. "I think the dining room will be the best place to work in. There's plenty of space," she says, pointing toward the large table.

"Thanks."

I quickly set my things out so I can get started on this project as soon as he's here. Hell, I may even start before he's here. Anything to get this done as quickly as possible.

Before I can sit, Alice is waving me toward her.

"I have to show you something."

"Not right now, Alice. She's here to work with your brother on their project," Esme says, giving her a pointed look.

"I'm just going to show her really quick. I don't think I'll have time before Emmett snags her for video games."

"Alice," she replies, using a tone all mothers have perfected in making their children stop what they're doing.

"He's not even down here yet!"

"He'll be down in a minute."

"But—"

"She's right, Alice. I'd rather get this done."

Before the sentence is out of my mouth, Edward comes strolling in, his light golden eyes meeting mine for a brief moment, our history book and laptop under his arm.

Edward sets his things down on the opposite side of the table and looks up at me, looking more relaxed than he did a few minutes ago. Honestly, it makes _me _more relaxed too. "Let's get started."

"Edward, don't be rude," Esme scolds. "You haven't even offered her something to eat or drink yet. Where are your manners?" Edward mumbles an apology, and Esme shakes her head, giving me her attention. "I apologize for my son. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"No, thank you."

"All right. If you change your mind later, please help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You're more than welcome to anything we have. Alice, come on. Let's leave them to do their project."

I want them to stay, because if there are witnesses, then there's a less likely chance of me going missing, plus it's less likely I'll lose my temper and tell him where to shove his attitude, but it's really childish for me to do so. Instead, I keep silent and take a few breaths as Alice follows her mother out of the room. Just before she disappears through the doorway, she sends a wink, which confuses the hell out of me.

Taking the seat across from him, I wait for him to speak, wondering if he's going to mention my outline. I don't have to wonder long.

"Okay, your outline was good, and we can definitely use some of your ideas. I also started the project last night, though. Since our section is the growth of industry and automobiles, I think a mock sales-pitch-like presentation would be good, as though we're from the future, selling the people of the past on the merits of growth in the car and industry sector. We can put together a slide show and an informational packet. As for the paper, I've found some good information online and in our books, so you can start writing the sources down, and I'll start working on the paper."

My jaw pops as I clench my teeth and begin tapping my fingers rhythmically along the wooden surface. I count each drum of my fingers and each huff of breath, hoping the action will calm me, but it doesn't. The longer I stare at him, typing away at his computer, repeating his words in my head, my anger surges.

How dare he? How much of a control freak can he be to do this? Does he not understand the meaning of a _joint _project? Obviously not, as he thinks taking control, doing what he wants to do, and telling _me _what to do is the best bet.

Sensing my stare, his eyes meet mine from over the laptop.

"Problem?"

"Yeah, and I'm looking at it." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Don't be so shocked. Do you not understand that we were supposed to do this _together? _That we're supposed to decide on what to do _together_?"

"You started an outline."

"Yeah, a _rough_ _outline, _meaning it's just ideas and scribbles, not a guaranteed how-to of our project. And for the record, I'm not some dog you command. We should _talk _about this instead of you telling me what to do."

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "You're right. I'm sorry."

I _need _to get a recording of that. No one will believe he's apologized to me this much.

He continues, oblivious to my thoughts. "Was there another way you wanted to do this?"

Since he's already done another layout, I figure I'll look at it, and if I don't like it, I'll tell him so. I grab the sheet of paper with his notes and look over it. I hate to admit it, but it's good ... really good. Even better than mine.

I'm not going to let him know that though.

"This will be okay. We can tweak it along the way and add in my ideas."

He nods, and I open the history book, eager to get this done.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

The clock in the living room chimes, telling me in a _ding-dong-ding _pattern we've been working on this project for two hours now, and in those two hours, we've gotten a lot done.

During this time, we've worked together flawlessly, which is surprising. There was no hostility, no snarky comments or glares, just hushed exchanges of information and questions to help one another. It was nice, actually, and it made me begrudgingly see why he's a close friend of Jasper's. When Edward isn't busy being a rude, controlling asshat, he's actually quite pleasant and calming to be around.

He is now working on his side of the paper, but for my part, I'm finally done, and I sit back with a heavy, relieved sigh, rubbing my temples in hopes that the dull throbbing will alleviate.

"You finished?" he questions, not looking up from his writing.

"No, I thought I'd write telepathically," I retort.

Shockingly, the corners of his lips curl up, and he laughs heartily. "How's that working for you?"

"Brilliantly. By prom, I should be able to pull a full-on _Carrie._"

Once again, he laughs, his face free of anything other than humor. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll be sure to skip the dance."

"It's probably for the best, anyway. Last year was pretty wild, though it was standard stereotypical stuff; someone spiking the punch, pulling pranks, destroying school property all wrapped up in a cheesy theme with an underlying tone of poor decisions later on in the night."

"Sounds fun," he says his tone droll. "If you're finished, may I read it? I'll give you mine when I'm done. I just want to add a few more things."

Unfortunately, my headache isn't getting any better, but I _do _have painkillers in my backpack. On my way to the kitchen, I slide my paper over to him before getting a glass of water, feeling eyes on my every movement. I ignore him as best I can, but it's hard when I see him blatantly staring at me from the corner of my eye.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," I reply, curiously watching him for a moment.

He nods. "I'm almost done here, and then I'll look at your section. It shouldn't be too much work to put it together and have everything done."

"Cool."

While I'm up, I decide to make a quick trip to the bathroom, needing a moment to myself. I tell Edward I'll be back shortly, and head down the hall to the guest bathroom, where he directed me.

There, I see my headache was not just an ordinary headache, but a PMS headache. I sigh harshly, thankful I'm prepared and have what I need with me, but this is a big sign I need to go home.

Being here is the last thing I need right now.

"What are you doing?" He questions as I quickly pack up my things.

"I think I'm going to head home. It's getting kind of late, and I should be home for dinner."

"Are you sure? My mother can call your parents and ask for you to stay." He sounds concerned and somewhat despondent, but I doubt that'd be the case.

"No, that's all right," I tell him, shaking my head, as I shove the rest of my things into my bag. "I don't want to impose, and I'm sure my parents have already made my dinner."

Ripping out a piece of paper from my notebook, I scribble down my email address and place it on top of his book. "Here's my email. I'll type up my section of the paper and send it to you. Email me the brochures you've made, and I'll look at them tonight."

Shouldering my bag higher, I pull out my phone, my finger settling on Rose's number. "I'll talk to you later, I guess."

"Bella," he says, catching my arm and stepping in front of me. "We should get—"

He stops suddenly, swallowing so loud I can hear it clearly. He takes a huge step back, his eyes dark and his lips slightly curl over his pearly teeth.

Feeling tense and uneasy, I shift, inching toward the exit. I hope I'll be able to rush past him without an issue because from the hard look on his face, I'd say his mood has shifted. "I'm just gonna wait outside."

"No," he growls, stepping toward me.

His nostrils flare as I ignore him, making a quick move to walk past and for a brief moment, his hands come toward me, and I think he's going to grab me again. I ready myself for it, my body tense and rigid.

A loud thud from upstairs makes both of us jump, and he steps away, his eyes locked on the door.

"You're not going outside."

I want to make a snarky comeback at his controlling words, but he continues speaking before I can.

"Do you have a ride?"

"I'll call Rose."

He nods. "Fine. If she needs directions, find my mother. Be sure to look over everything tonight."

Edward quickly leaves the room, flying up the stairs at lightning speed, leaving me alone with my heart in my throat.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	7. Chapter 7

**To all who read this story, thank you. It means a lot! **

**Thank you to Fran for beta'ing and Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading.**

**Any mistakes you see are my own! **

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

Moments after Edward's abrupt departure, Mrs. Cullen bustles into the room, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. She breathes a sigh of relief, but the look doesn't last long; a pained expression crossed her features as she swallows audibly, releasing a long exhale.

"Is everything okay?"

"Fine," I quickly reply.

Her eyes dart to the large window showcasing the expansive backyard. I turn to look but see nothing out of the ordinary.

"Edward left."

Even though her words are a statement and not a question, I answer anyway.

"Yep. Tore outta here like his as ..." I trail off and correct my language when I remember my manners. "Like he was on fire."

An apologetic look comes over her features. Her fingers twist together in agitation in front of her before they fall down at her sides. "I'm terribly sorry for his behavior, Bella. He's been going through a difficult time."

"No need to apologize," I say, nonchalantly. "I need to go home, so it all works out okay."

Her arms raise, almost like she's going to reach out and hug me, but she stops herself and smiles, though it's not out of happiness; it seems to be out of sadness or pity … something I can't stand people feeling for me.

Delicately, she clears her throat, her eyes drifting to the now-empty dining room table. "Did you get your project done?"

"Almost," I reply, trying not to wince as my lower abdomen begins to cramp. "We got a good chunk of it done."

"Good. Do you need to make a call?" She questions, nodding toward the phone in my hand.

"Yeah. I'm going to call my cousin to come get me."

"Of course," she replies. A low rumble of grinding metal from the side of the kitchen catches our attention, and Mrs. Cullen's eyes light up. Slowly, she walks toward the door just off the kitchen, her hand turning the knob before she finishes speaking. "That's my husband. I'll leave you to your call."

My eyebrows rise at her hasty departure, and I chuckle under my breath.

Scrolling to Rose's number, I wait for a few seconds for her to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, can you come pick me up?"

"Is everything okay? Did that jackass hurt you?"

I smile at her irate tone. "Down, tiger. It's nothing like that. We're through for the day."

"How much did you get done?"

"I don't know. It was quite a bit though. I'd say probably one more day or two, and then it'll be finished."

"And you're leaving without getting all of it complete?" She replies with a chuckle. "That eager to go back there?"

"You're so hysterical. Let me know when you go in for comedy night at the bar," I tell her, making my voice as monotone as possible. "No. I'm not feeling well. Cramps."

"Ah," she says in understanding. "Give me directions, and I'll be there soon."

"Uh ... sure." I pause, not knowing how the hell to get here, which is really great on my part.

I _need _to be more observant, especially where psycho classmates are concerned.

"I … uh, don't know the way exactly."

"Isabella, I can't believe you! Why weren't you paying attention when you were being driven there?" Rose scolds.

"Hey, I know, okay? But their place is tricky. It's practically in the middle of nowhere."

"That's no excuse—"

In the middle of her rant, I feel a soft tap on my shoulder. Mrs. Cullen smiles at me kindly, standing next to a rather good looking guy, now understanding her rush to greet him.

Whoa.

His blond hair is combed back neatly, his blue sweater tucked into his slightly wrinkled dress pants. His eyes—the same color as most of his family—are bright gold, filled with friendliness and a touch of curiosity. His head is tilted to the side, almost as if he'd trying to remember me, but I think he's going to be disappointed.

I've never met him before; I'm sure I would remember if I had.

"I'll give her directions," Mrs. Cullen quietly says.

I nod in thanks, handing the phone over silently and watch as she steps into the living room, murmuring into the device.

Awkwardly, I smile and rock back on my heels, taking the opportunity to introduce myself.

"Hi, Dr. Cullen, I'm Bella."

His eyes widen slightly as his eyebrows rise toward his hairline. His posture straightens and tenses a little as he stares at me, his head tilted to the side.

"I don't believe we've met before, though you _do _look familiar," he starts, his tone friendly.

"We could have met in a previous life," I reply with a grin.

He laughs heartily. "Perhaps."

"For _this _life, though ... no, we haven't met, but I've heard about you. Mostly from my father, Charlie."

Recognition lights in his eyes and his body slouches in relaxation once more.

"Oh, yes. Charlie and Renee Swan; I _knew_ you looked familiar; you have the same features as your mother, but your father's eye and hair color," he says, leaning back against the counter, crossing one foot over the other, his arms spread out on either side of him. "How are they doing?"

Suspicion creeps up at his words. From the way he said it, it sounded as if he's known my parents for longer than the short amount of time they've been in town.

"They're fine. Do you know them well?"

"They were very welcoming when we first moved here. The first people we met, actually."

I feel stupid; of course, they introduced themselves. I'm sure it's the first thing my father did, not because he was being nosey, but because he's the Chief. My mother, on the other hand, she most likely tagged along because she was curious about the new residents.

"I was told you came to work on a project with my son, Edward," he begins casually. "How did that go?"

What I want to say is, "It was fine at first, Doc. We were starting to get along until he spazzed out ... again. By the way, is there something you can give him to make more … nice?"

However, I realize I can't say this. I rub at my temple with my fingers, trying to come up with the appropriate words.

"It was fine."

It's not my most eloquent or lengthy response, but it'll do.

Dr. C nods slowly, but it doesn't look like he believes me, if the knowing gleam in his eye or the smile pulling at the corner of his lips is anything to go by.

His eyes dart to the ceiling for a moment before returning to mine. It makes me wonder if he knows about the relationship, or lack thereof, I have with his son. I'm sure either Edward or his siblings have said something, considering he hasn't kept his distaste for me a secret, which tells me he probably knows or he's keeping quiet about it.

If that's the case, it's earning him major cool points in my book. While I haven't reacted in the greatest way in regards to Edward, I'm glad I'm not being lectured by a delusional parent who thinks their baby can do no wrong.

"Would you like a drink or something to eat, perhaps?" He inquires gesturing at the spotless kitchen behind him.

"No, thanks. I'm on my way out. Well, as soon as my cousin gets here."

"Did my children run you off?" He laughs, that same knowing look on his face, telling me he knows all about Edward and me.

"No, it takes a lot to scare me off."

Mrs. Cullen comes back into the kitchen then, handing me the phone. She slides into her husband's arms, laying her head on his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, a content sigh leaving him as he closes his eyes, resting his chin on top of her head.

This display reminds me of my own parents; how they need to be as close as they can be to one another as if their lives depend on it. It's sweetly sickening, but it makes me happy; at least there are some people who are still in love in this crazy world.

I turn away, wanting to give them their private moment.

"Hey."

"So that was Mrs. Cullen, huh?" Rose says, curious.

"No, that was Dr. Cullen. He's very feminine. When you come over, don't stare. You'll make him self-conscious."

Muffled laughter comes from behind me as Rose huffs through the phone. "Smart-ass. All right. I'll be there as soon as I can. I didn't think they'd be living out in the middle of nowhere."

"I told you it's a difficult house to find. It's like a secret fortress or something."

"_Wonderful_. All right, I'm leaving now. Keep your cell phone with you in case I need to call back."

"No problem."

"'Kay, see you soon."

"Be careful."

"Will do."

Dr. C and Mrs. C are still there, their foreheads resting against one another as they murmur to one another. Wanting to give them their space, I silently slip out of the kitchen and pause in the living room. I debate about whether or not I should go find Alice or Emmett since I made vague promises to both of them. However, I don't want to assume I'd be welcome up there and I definitely don't want to take the chance of running into Edward.

Dropping my backpack on the floor, I collapse on the couch, closing my eyes. A second later, I feel the cushion dip beside me. Opening my eyes, I see Alice sitting there with a small, tentative smile.

"Are you okay? You look bad."

I laugh but say nothing about her statement. I appreciate her honesty because I'm sure I do look like shit. "Yeah. I'm tired, and I have cramps."

She wrinkles her nose, pats my shoulder once in sympathy before her hand drops heavily into her lap. "Do you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm just waiting for my cousin to get here."

Her eyes light up for a brief moment, taking on that strange light milky quality. It's gone before I can blink, but I know for certain I saw them change.

"Your eyes change sometimes."

She hums, looking over with a strained smile. "Hmm?"

"Your eyes. They change sometimes; they get a white filmy layer over them."

Slowly she nods, her gaze drifting down her hands, where she's picking at her cuticles with sharp tugs. The sight of it makes me wince; I can almost feel the burning pain of tearing away the little slivers of skin that surround my nails.

"Yeah. It's a weird thing that happens. No one knows why," she answers softly, never meeting my gaze.

Guilt floods through me. Obviously, she's nervous about it, and I just brought it up like I was discussing the weather.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it; I'm sorry. Everyone has their little quirks."

She nods, crossing her legs and folding herself further into the cushion. She grabs the remote on the coffee table and turns on the huge television my father would kill for, but can probably never afford with three kids. "Let's watch some T.V. until she gets here."

"Sounds good. Where's Emmett?"

She quickly looks at me from the corner of her eye, going through the multitude of channels before landing on an 80's horror movie with terrible monster effects. "He's invested in a game right now. You're saved for today."

_Good. _ I'm glad Emmett is preoccupied. I'm not feeling up to doing anything besides passing out and finishing the project with Edward. In that order.

"Well, wasn't there something you wanted to show me? I can look at it now."

Her face brightens. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

She releases a low squeal and bounces once, mainly to get off the couch, and asks me to wait. She rushes off up the stairs, her feet barely making a noise against the carpeted steps.

Nearly a minute later she's back, holding a medium-sized, black photo album with gold flowers adorned on the cover.

Opening the cover, I'm immediately blown away by the black and white picture.

A stunning woman wearing a dark Victorian gown stands alone near a cliff overlooking a body of water. The sleeves drape down her arms and hug her like a second skin, while her other hand holds a lace umbrella, shielding her from the sun. Her gaze is turned upward, peering through the parasol. Her hair is in a loose up-do with curls falling down, reaching for her neck.

If I didn't recognize the special effects, I could swear this was taken in the Victorian era.

Flipping through the rest of the album, I see the same woman repeated a few times, mixed with two other light-haired women, all wearing different gowns in different locations. Like the first woman, the other two are stunningly beautiful, complementing the gothic-looking gowns well.

"This is amazing," I sincerely tell her.

Her face brightens. "Thank you. You know these dresses," she remarks, pointing out a few photos, "are the same ones. I just altered them to be different for the pictures."

My eyes bulge. "You _made _these?"

"Oh, heavens no! I don't have the patience. I can make alterations just fine, but making it from scratch?" Her nose scrunches as she shakes her head. "Nope. I'll admit, I did try to make one myself; I bought all of the material, a sewing machine, watched videos, read the books, but after my fifteenth screw up, I raged. Hard. I walked away from it for a while before going back. On my final attempt, the dress came out _horribly! _ Uneven sleeves, the skirt was too long for anyone to wear and I sewed the neck halfway closed. I honestly thought I would be better at it," she muses with a frown.

"Everyone has their talents. Sewing isn't yours."

"Yeah. Plus, I love taking pictures; it's much more fun," she replies, tapping a single finger on the front of the album.

"The pictures, the dresses, they're all beautiful," I murmur, running my fingertips over the glossy cellophane protecting the image.

It looks so regal, just like a still from an old horror movie. The sudden urge to be there, to be in a dress like this is overwhelming.

"You have a talent, Alice," I continue. "You should consider photography as a career choice."

I want to ask her who the women in the pictures are, but she speaks before I can get the chance, the book clutched to her chest.

"I'm glad you liked it."

"More than liked it."

Her face shines brighter than the sun. "Thank you. I have more upstairs with my other family members. I'll show them to you some time." The happiness on her face slowly transforms into a sly grin with mischief swimming in her eyes. "Hey, would you be interested in being in a few pictures? I have the perfect dress for you!"

The doorbell rings, soft and chiming, reminding me of the church bells down the block from our house that ring during Christmas.

Mrs. Cullen comes in, a green apron tied around her front, covered with dirt, and a pair of gardening gloves, stained brown in her hands. She smiles at us as she passes through, walking gracefully toward the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Cullen. I'm here to pick up Bella." Rose's tone is tense but polite.

Mrs. Cullen steps to the side and Rose's eyes instantly seek me out. Her shoulders relax, and she twirls her keys around on her index finger, tapping her free hand against her thigh.

"Sorry, I'm late. I got turned around a few times. Ready?"

"One minute," I answer, rising from the couch. Alice jumps up, looking expectant.

"Maybe someday soon," I reply to her inquiry.

Alice squeals and jumps in excitement, pulling me into a hug and jostling my body. I release an awkward laugh and attempt to pat her on the back, but with her arms around mine, it's rather difficult.

As casually as I can, I extract myself from her grip and step back.

"I can't wait, Bella. It's going to be so much fun!"

I nod, a part of me kind of apprehensive about accepting her offer. She's so energetic and peppy … everything I'm not. Sure, I can be in a good mood, just not a perpetually happy one like Alice. Can we even be friends? Would I bring her down or would we mesh well together?

Still, I should probably try; plus, I would love to wear one of those dresses.

"Uh, just let me know when and I'll let you know," I tell her, shouldering my backpack and heading toward Rose.

"I will," Alice promises, still beaming.

"Thanks for letting me work on the project here," I tell Mrs. Cullen.

Her eyes briefly fly to the ceiling, a slight scowl on her face before she smooths her expression into a kind smile.

"Of course, it was a pleasure."

Just as I open the door, I hear Emmett's voice reverberates through the house.

"Rosalie!"

"Oh, boy," Alice mutters from behind me.

Loud, pounding footsteps shake the ceiling and stairs as Emmett comes running down the steps, pausing halfway down as a picture frame falls and shatters onto the steps. He glances at his mother, looking very much like a little boy who knows he's in trouble.

"Emmett Cullen," Esme snaps her hands on her hips. "What have I told you about running in the house? You're cleaning that up, and you better hope my picture isn't ruined."

Dr. C comes into the room. "Emmett, what did you break now?" Immediately, he spots the broken frame at Emmett's feet, looking at him in disapproval. "Your mother and I have told you how we feel about running in the house, Emmett."

He shrugs a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, Pops. Sorry, Ma. I'll clean it up. I promise."

Mrs. Esme's eyes narrow. "I _know _you will."

He shifts on his feet, his gaze turning to the ground as his mother continues to stare him down. Knowing this game, I know she'll continue to stare at him until he cleans it up at this very moment.

I bite the inside of my lip to keep in my laughter; to see this amount of fear on his face is something else. Alice and Rose, however, have no qualms about keeping their humor a secret. Emmett's gaze darts up at Rose's face, looking awed and somewhat star-struck. He takes a step toward her but pauses when Mrs. Cullen loudly clears her throat. He looks confused and put out for a moment before he follows his mother's line of sight, finding her glaring at the broken glass on the steps.

"Oh."

He jogs down the remaining steps, as the shards fall onto the landing. Stopping in front of his mother, Emmett pulls her in a huge hug. "Sorry, Ma. I'll be right back. Watch your step, everyone. I don't want somebody to get hurt."

On the way out of the room, he ruffles Alice's hair. She bats his hand away with a glare and a huff, trying to tame the frizzy mess.

"I saw you laughing at me, squirt."

"Well, if you wouldn't be so entertaining I wouldn't laugh."

Carlisle places a hand on Emmett's arm and the two converse quietly, their eyes drifting over to me for a second before looking away.

Gee, I wonder who they're talking about.

Emmett nods at whatever his father tells him before disappearing into the kitchen, returning a beat later with a small hand broom and dustpan, sweeping up the glass. He hands the broken frame to his mother with a sheepish smile as she clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Carefully, she extracts the picture and sighs with relief, holding the glossy paper to her chest.

"Another picture frame," she says with a sigh, walking over to Dr. C, who kisses the side of her head.

"Let's go," I quietly say to Rose, who nods. "It's been fun," I say to the Cullens. "Thanks for having me over. I'll see you all later."

Mrs. Esme and Dr. C both smile kindly. "Of course. I hope to see you again." Dr. C nods at his wife's words, his expression sincere.

"Thanks."

"Bye!" Alice waves. "I'll let you know about the pictures soon, okay?"

I nod and watch curiously, as she turns to look at Rose, studying her for a moment. "You're welcome to come as well. You'd look fabulous in my photos."

I have to agree; Rose has what my mother calls 'old Hollywood glamor,' meaning she looks beautiful and graceful, similar to the stars of the 1940s and '50s. After watching a few old films, I immediately agreed. If she were to do her makeup and hair the right way, she would look like she stepped off the set of a black and white film.

Rose looks between Alice and me, apparently confused and Alice rushes to explain, quickly flipping through the album still in her hands.

After she's done, Rose raises an eyebrow at Alice's suggestion but doesn't comment. I know she's not completely sold on Alice, and at this point, I don't think she ever will. I can see she's not going to give her a chance, if the indifference on her face is anything to go by.

"I have plans. Maybe another time," Rose replies, her tone detached.

Alice looks put out, but nods.

Emmett opens the door, purposely standing as close as he can to Rose, who looks at him for a brief moment before leaving the house without a second glance.

At the driver's side door, Rose is looking at a small piece of paper, her eyes roaming over the page before she shoves it in her pocket and looking up at me as she unlocks the door.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I reply slowly, taking in her pink cheeks and the way she's clenching her jaw in an effort to keep from smiling. "What was that?"

Her reply is quick and swift. "What was what?"

My eyes narrow. She purposefully looks away from me, getting into the car with quick, almost jerky movements.

"The piece of paper you shoved in your pocket," I respond, getting into the passenger seat.

"The directions on how to get here. I was making sure I didn't take a wrong turn going back home. You weren't kidding when you said they live out in the middle of nowhere."

Something is telling me she's not being that honest, but realistically, there's no reason for her to lie. Still, something feels off about her reaction. Is she just aggravated from being here, in Emmett's house? Or is it something else?

For the moment, I decide to let it go and buckle myself in. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a tall, pale figure in the tree line, about to emerge from the woods, but they're gone when I look up.

"What the …" Rose says, gazing in the direction I was just looking.

"What?"

"I thought I saw …" She stops, shaking her head. "I thought I saw someone come out of the woods."

"Did you see who it was?"

The look on her face clearly asks me if I'm crazy. "Does it matter? They were going for a walk _in the woods. _That's just too fucking creepy. I guess the rumors were true about them. Weird."

I bark out a laugh for her cursing so causally and for what she deems _creepy. _"Rose, this town is surrounded by _woods_. They live surrounded by _woods. _Where are they supposed to walk?"

"That's true," she concedes, "but still. Something doesn't feel right about them."

I start to reply, but I snap my mouth closed. I think I know where this is going and I know I'm probably not going to like it.

Rose has made it crystal clear that she doesn't like the Cullens, particularly Emmett. While I don't think she would force Jasper or me to stay away from them, I know she _will _make her opinion on hanging out with them perfectly clear.

"It'll be fine. You worry too much."

She hums but doesn't say anything, keeping her gaze on the road as we pull away from Cullen house. We drive in silence for a few moments and from my peripheral vision, I notice Rose shaking her head. Looking over at her, I see her eyebrows are drawn together, her lips pressed into a thin line as she thinks about something, tilting her head from left to right and shaking it every so often.

Whatever she's thinking is obviously stressing her out and troubling her. Wanting to distract her, I blurt out the first thing that crosses my mind. "You cursed."

A sudden burst of laughter escapes her, and she shakes her head, still laughing as she replies. "I curse."

"Yeah, but not so carefree-like. Besides, you always tell _me _not to curse. How is that fair?"

"First of all, there is a difference between cursing casually and using it every other sentence. The second way is much too vulgar."

I nod. "Yeah, damn it, you're right. It's too fucking vulgar. I'll stop."

She tries to look stern, but the humor and the way her lips twitch as she fights her smile gives everything away. After a moment, she loses the fight and chuckles, mumbling something under her breath. Probably wondering where I went wrong in my upbringing.

"Just don't curse too much. Before you know it, you'll be swearing up a storm, start drinking and getting into fights because you'll love the thrill it gives you. You'll get kicked out school and won't get into college, and you'll live at home for the rest of your days, listening to the old ladies declare what a shame it was that your life was wasted. That, of course, will make you drink more and we'll have to stage an intervention for you where you'll get pissed and storm out, never contacting us again. Everyone will be depressed, and we'll just be shells of the people we once were," I ramble, trying to keep a straight face as she looks at me with wide eyes and her mouth falling slack.

"How—how did you get all of that from cursing?" She blusters.

"Things spiral out of control sometimes."

"Yeah, like your brain," she retorts.

I nod firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. "Exactly."

My laughter holds off for approximately ten breaths before I let it out, with Rose joining me shortly after.

"What plans were you talking about?" I question, remember what she told Alice. "I don't remember you mentioning anything."

"I don't tell you everything."

I chuckle. While this is true, it's kind of impossible to keep something from one of us, considering we all live in the same house and we're all nosey.

"It came up this afternoon," she finally admits. "I called Vera, and she mentioned she might be able to make it to Forks this weekend. It all depends on if her teachers give difficult homework assignments on Friday."

Vera Williams. She's the only person who has remained Rose's true friend. She stood by her during the fallout and bullying with Lauren and refused to succumb to the pressures of high school just to fit in with the 'cool crowd' when everyone ostracized and intimidated her.

Unfortunately, Vera moved to Port Angeles earlier this year, but they get together whenever they have time. As of late, they haven't gotten to see each other much; instead, they call and text, but I know it's not the same.

"That'll be good for you. It's been a while since you've hung out."

"Yeah, it has," she murmurs despondently.

For a brief moment, there's a heaviness in the car that's impossible to ignore. A weighty feeling in my gut has me covering my midsection with my arms while I blink rapidly, trying to drive away the burning sensation in my eyes.

Looking over, I notice Rose's cheeks are glistening with tears. I reach over, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looks over and laughs lightly, as she wipes the moisture from her face. "I'm okay. I'm just moody. PMS is wonderful," she sarcastically utters.

Like a flip of a switch, the heaviness is gone, and I uncoil my arms, letting them rest comfortably in my lap, sighing in relief.

"Yeah, I can relate," I mutter.

"Tell me, how was your time working with Edward?"

I blow out a breath, feeling a weird hum run through my body. I ignore it, focusing on the conversation at hand. "It was _strange__,_ to say the least."

"Not surprising. Everything about them is strange. But elaborate, I'm curious."

"Well, we didn't argue the entire time."

Rose's eyebrows raise as she blinks, processing the words that I had just spoken. "Really?"

I nod. I'm right there with her in the 'surprised and completely fricking baffled' section. "Yeah. I mean, it started off rocky, but he apologized and actually cracked a joke."

"And he was nice?" She inquires, surprise lacing her words.

I throw up my hands, palms toward her. "Whoa. I wouldn't go _that _far."

She makes a noise of dismissal, shaking her head. "But he was polite and didn't act like he hated you?"

"Yeah."

"Weird."

"Indeed."

There's a lull in conversation as we're both in lost in thought for a minute before Rose clicks her tongue against the roof her mouth.

"Oh. I hope he's not one of _those _people," she cryptically says.

Turning toward her, I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She shakes her head, her lips pursed. "Nothing. Just … be careful."

"You're speaking as if I'm going to have a lot of contact with him, which I'm not. After this project is done, I'm going to ignore his existence."

Her lips quirk into a smile, her blue eyes dancing with humor as she nods. We continue the drive in silence, the purr of the engine the only sound filling our ears.

Mom is standing near the front door as we come in, immediately rushing to me, her hands brushing over my face and hair. Her eyebrows are pinched together, the corner of her bottom lip clenched between her teeth.

Rose wanders upstairs to put her purse away, digging out the piece of paper in her pocket and looking it again.

_Hmm. _

"Are you okay, baby? Rosalie said you weren't well."

I take ahold of Mom's flailing hands, gripping them tight. "I'm fine, Mom. It's just cramps. It'll be fine once my pain reliever kicks in."

She breathes a sigh of relief, her face smoothing as the worry in her eyes fades. "Good. Did you have fun?" She questions, a certain twinkle in her eye that I'm not thrilled with.

"We didn't murder each other, so I guess that's something for the win column."

Mom frowns in disapproval, her lips pressed firmly together her arms crossed her chest. Knowing I'm on thin ice, I quickly tell her everything I told Rose. Her displeasure at my previous words fades back into giddiness.

Pointing a lone finger, I shake my head. "Don't start. Whatever you're thinking, don't start."

"Oh come on, it's obvious he's coming around. You never know what the future will bring. The most wonderful and passionate relationships have started out with hate first."

A burst of startled laughter erupts. Has she gone insane? How and why would she think Edward and I would have any type of relationship?

The thought of it, however, does send a pleasurable warmth through me but I brush it off. It's obviously my hormones.

"Wow, you really jumped light years ahead there, Ma."

"You never know," she tells me, her words having a sing-song like effect. I roll my eyes, and the happy look on her face fades a little. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Nothing to worry about there," I rush to assure her, hoping she won't dive into the sex talk again. The first time was bad enough, knowing she was talking about her and Dad. I don't need to go through that twice.

"Worry about what?" Dad says, walking up to us. He gives me a quick hug before kissing Mom's forehead, and she smiles up at him lovingly.

"Nothing," I quickly reply. "Is dinner ready?"

Without waiting for a reply, I head into the kitchen, collapsing at the table. Jasper, having overheard my conversation, doesn't bother to hide his laughter. He grunts and glares as I kick him in the shin, smiling proudly.

"Did you get your project done?" Dad questions.

"Almost. There's still a bit more to do, but I'll work on it tonight. "

He nods and thanks Mom as she hands him a plate of food. "You could have stayed over there and finished it," he tells me.

I shake my head. "No, it was better that I left."

He eyes me for a moment before nodding. "Will you be able to finish the project here?"

"Maybe. He's supposed to email me tonight, so we'll see."

He nods once. "Let me know, okay? If you do go back there, be careful and observant. I'm sure the Cullens have taken precautions against wildlife and intruders, but to be safe, stay close to the house and don't go into the woods. If you do go outside, make sure someone knows. Two more people from Port Angeles have gone missing within the past four days, and it could be some kind of animal. I'm not sure the thing won't travel this way, okay?"

"Why do you think it's an animal?" I question. "There have been a few people that have gone missing, right?"

Dad clears his throat, straightening his back, looking at me unwaveringly. "That's right, but these people disappeared from isolated areas; a park and an abandoned store near the edge of Port Angeles. We're just looking at all possibilities."

I nod and try to ignore the strange feeling my father's news stirs in my gut.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Immediately after dinner, I start working on the paper and outlining the presentation. Once I have it completed, I wait for Edward's email to pop up in my inbox and eight minutes later, it does. He doesn't mention his strange behavior or hasty retreat. Instead, it's strictly business or classwork, as it were, sending me his outline for the presentation. I reply, telling him I completed mine as well. Within moments, he answers back, asking me to call him.

I dial the number he's given me slowly, wondering if this is some sort of trap.

At that thought, I roll my eyes and mutter a curse under my breath. There's not much he can do over the phone and besides, he was somewhat pleasant until his freak-out before I left.

"Hey," he answers, his tone soft and low.

"Hi."

There's a beat of silence as we listen to each other breathe before he clears his throat.

"You said you typed up your paper and did an outline for presentation?"

"Yeah. Want me to send it over?"

"Please; and I'll send mine."

He sends his stuff, and I read his part while he reads mine. I'm not going to lie; reading through his section leaves me a little awestruck and a lot envious. His writing flows easily and poetically, reading as if he's writing some grand novel that'll touch your soul instead of something for a history project. I think back to my section of the paper and grimace, imagining his face scrunching up in disgust as he reads my simple words.

"It's very good," Edward says after a minute and much to my surprise it sounds genuine. "Your section of the paper is very convincing in regards to how the impact of machines helped the world move forward into the new century. You also have an angle in there I didn't even think about. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to change a few things in my paper, based on your angle. Is that all right?"

"Pfft. You're joking, right?"

"No," he responds, quite seriously. "You've done a good job with this."

"You're serious." I still don't believe he likes my writing, based on what I've just read from him.

"Yes," he answers slowly, as if I'm a child. "Look, I wouldn't lie about this. If I didn't like it, I'd tell you, flat out."

Lightly, I snort. I have no doubt that he wouldn't waste any time telling me I suck at something, just like he's told me off in the past.

"Can I change my section of the paper to match your angle or not? Otherwise, it won't mesh, and we'll get a bad grade. Something you've proven to be adamant about in the past."

"Knock yourself out."

I'm absolutely stunned, and I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Instantly, I wince and rub at the skin of my arm, satisfied to know I'm wide awake.

So what exactly is going on? Has he realized he's been incredibly rude when I've haven't done much to deserve it?

It certainly seems that way, and if that's the case, then I guess I need to follow his example.

Clearing my throat, I stammer and stutter my way through my words, feeling like an idiot. "Your … your section was good too. I li-liked it."

There's a beat of silence, and then his voice comes through the line, low and sheepish sounding. "I studied this at my old school, so it was easy. Have you studied it before?"

"No," I answer hesitantly, treading lightly as I think through my responses.

"Well, you must be smart then. You wrote this without looking at the information."

I blink and feel warmth flood my cheeks, spreading down to my chest. Oh geez, am I blushing?

Looking down, I see the pale skin blossom in a reddish-pink hue.

Wow.

"I … uh ... read up on history a long time ago. The class was moving too slow in my opinion."

He chuckles. "You self-taught?"

"Kind of, I guess."

"I don't know many people who would do that."

"I'm not most people."

"I've learned that," he answers quietly. "You're pretty unique."

I open my mouth to respond, but the words are stuck in my throat, most likely frozen in surprise like the rest of me. I really can't believe what's happening here.

Is he a pod person? Did he have a personality transplant?

Honestly, this is so baffling to me. We're getting along ... holy Hell. Edward and I are having a conversation … and I seem to be enjoying it. What is going on here?

"Don't be so shocked. Stranger things have happened."

I'm confused for a moment before I realize I must have spoken out loud.

"Oh, shit. Damn," I breathe, covering my face with my free hand. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was speaking out loud."

"It's fine." He clears his throat. "It _is _kind of odd. I expected us to be at each other's throats the whole time during this project."

"Yeah, me too." It's really a surprise. I guess we _can _get along when he's not being an insufferable dick, and I'm not being a defensive bitch.

Imagine that.

"You enjoy speaking to me, huh?" His words are laced with humor, and I groan, hitting my head against my desk, listening to his deep chuckle.

"Don't be embarrassed. I knew you liked me."

I wave my free hand in the air, shaking my head. "Okay, whoa. Stop right there, Romeo. I don't like you. Somehow I knew compliments would go to your over-inflated head."

"What makes you think I have an over-inflated head?"

"Oh, please. I see the way people go gaga over you just walking down the hall. That _has _to go to your head sometimes."

"I don't like attention all the time."

"Ha! You said _all the time, _meaning you _do _like it sometimes."

There's a moment of silence before he answers. "Fine, I'll admit it _is _an ego booster at times."

I roll my eyes. "Of course it is. It would be for anyone after a certain amount of time."

"True."

The clock tells me we've been talking like this for nearly fifteen minutes … will wonders never cease.

He's silent for a long moment before speaking. "You know, I—"

I wait for him to continue and when it's obvious he's not, I ask him to elaborate.

"I'm sorry about the way I acted when we first met," he blurts out, stunning me into silence. "I was in a bad mood about a lot of things, and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have."

"Um, no, you shouldn't have," I reply, still shocked I'm able to form an intelligent sentence. I never expected him to apologize for that. "It's—uh—it's cool, though. I mean, it _wasn't_, but it is now."

He chuckles, and I scowl, knowing what he's thinking. "Calm down with your chuckles, Chuckles. I just never thought _Edward Cullen_ would apologize. I need to get that shit on tape and send it into mysteries of the world or something. No one will believe it without evidence."

"True. It _is _my word against yours."

I shake my head, feeling a symphony of feelings and emotions. The biggest ones are shock and surprise. I never would dream Douche-ward would apologize and that I'd actually get along with him. It's weird to experience.

"So," I begin carefully. "What was up with you this afternoon?"

"Oh." He pauses, and a shuffling can be heard through the phone, lightly scratching against the receiver. "It's … it was nothing. I just got a headache … something I've been struggling with lately and I don't react well when I don't feel good."

Lightly, I snort. What man does? Whenever Dad or Jasper have a cold, they act as if they're on their deathbed and can't do anything for themselves. It's kind of humorous and pathetic at the same time.

"I take it you feel better then?"

"Just barely."

I hesitate for a brief moment. "I hope you feel better."

"Thanks. I—" he starts, but stops suddenly, a deep groan leaving him.

"What?"

"It's nothing. The paper is done now; our sections will mesh well, in my opinion. We just have to put it together and work on the presentation. We can do it at school during lunch or something. It won't take long."

"Okay."

"Good. I'll see you at school. I hope you're feeling better."

"Thanks." Before the word is completely out of my mouth, he's hung up the phone, but instead of pissing me off, it just leaves me feeling extremely confused.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

An hour later, I'm sitting on the couch next to my parents while they watch television and I read with a heating pad draped across my belly. Rose sits in the recliner, her head lolling on the back of the chair as she texts with someone. Jasper is in his room, and while I'm curious as to what he's doing, I'm too tired and comfortable to be nosey, so I guess I'll save my inquisition for another day.

Ten minutes and three thrilling chapters later, he comes out and plops down in front of the coffee table, tossing his biology book down.

"You still have homework? I thought you completed it a couple of hours ago," my mother asks curiously.

"I … got distracted," he replies with a heavy sigh.

"Oh? Distracted by what? The phone? I thought I heard murmuring coming from your room. You know the rules, homework first."

Dropping my book to my chest, I see a twinkle in my mother's eye and a slight pink color in Jasper's cheeks as he stares down at the book in front of him harder than he needs to.

"No, I wasn't on the phone," he blurts out.

"Talking to the voices?" I tease.

"If anyone is crazy in this house, it's _you._"

I click my tongue and give him a mock scowl, but before I can retort, Dad beats me to it.

"Hey, we don't talk like that in this house. Use the term _unbalanced. _It sounds better."

Jasper laughs, and I bite the inside of my lip, refusing to smile.

"Gee, thanks, _Father._"

"Welcome."

After we all share a small laugh, Jasper sighs and pulls out a textbook and his notebook. "I hate homework."

I snicker because the homework he's doing is the easiest we've ever had in all of our history of going to school. I can see how difficult it would be if you weren't paying attention when the teacher gives you the answers, but luckily for me, I was and managed to finish the assignment before class was over.

Returning to my novel is difficult, thanks to Jasper's huffing and heavy sighs a few minutes later, which annoys the crap out of me. His pen is wedged between his teeth as he frantically flips through the pages, scanning them quickly before sighing and huffing repeatedly, before noisily flipping through the pages again.

"Will you cut it out?" I hiss.

"I don't get this question," he says with a growl, tapping his pen against the paper. "I can't find the answer anywhere!"

"Yeah, it's difficult when they masterfully hide the answers in the textbook," I answer, trying to read. Again. My dad snickers and my mom stifles a giggle against her hand.

"What?" Jasper asks, confused.

"The answer in your textbook," Rose answers, bored.

"Where?"

"How should I know? I'm not in your class." I retort.

"Yeah, but you have the same teacher! We just don't have that class the same hour!"

I shrug a shoulder. "Not my problem."

"Bella," he says after a moment, a slight whine in his voice.

I glance at him over my book; he's pouting and glaring at his textbook. I can't help but roll my eyes. "The teacher gave us the pages where we would find the answers, Jasper."

He gives me a blank look, and before I can say anything else, my dad speaks.

"Why didn't you hear your teacher, Jasper?" he asks knowingly.

I look between the two of them, wondering what I'm missing.

"No reason," he answers, looking everywhere but my dad. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"You wanna talk, son?"

Jasper looks grateful at my dad's offer, but shakes his head. "Maybe later? I still have a lot to sort through."

"I'm here whenever you need me," Dad says. "Just don't let your grades slip."

"You really should pay attention," Rose inputs. "You need good grades to get into college, you know."

"I'll be fine, jeez," he replies lowly and frustrated. "Bella, which pages did Mr. Banner say?"

I consider jerking him around, but I really want to get back to my book. "Two forty-two to two sixty."

"Thanks."

Nodding, I turn back to my book and block everything else out for the time being.

An hour later, Rose and my parents retire, warning Jasper and me not to stay up too late. Jasper is still working on his homework, and I still have three more chapters until I'm finished with my novel, so sleep is not an option.

However, reading isn't either because ten minutes after everyone has gone to sleep, Jasper clears his throat three times, breaking my concentration.

"What?"

"My mind is warped looking for these answers. I need a distraction. The Cullen place is awesome, right?"

I can't help but smirk at his enthusiasm. It was just a couple of days ago he was tentative about going over there, and now, he's all about it.

"Yeah, it's huge. I still can't get over it. I think you could possibly fit this house into theirs twice and still have room left over," I muse, looking around.

He nods. "No kidding! That's what I thought when I first saw it too. I don't know why they live out in the middle of nowhere, though. It's kind of odd."

"Not really. Everyone in Forks is in each other's business. If I had the choice, I would want to be as far away from my neighbors too."

"Yeah, that's true. Hey, what was up with Rosalie when you came back this afternoon? She looked dazed."

I shrug, still unsure of what happened. If I had to guess, I'd say Emmett slipped a note or something to her, but she didn't complain about it, so I don't think that's it.

"Did Emmett do something?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, from what I saw."

"Huh." He thinks about it for a moment, deciding to let it go with a shake of his head. He looks down at his unfinished homework and groans. "I have a few more questions to answer, but everything is blurring together."

"Do it tomorrow then."

"I wish I could, but I know I'll be even more useless in the morning." He pauses for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. "I have an idea; what if you finish my assignment for me?"

I give him a look I hope conveys he's an idiot for even making such a suggestion, but obviously I fail because he still looks hopeful I'll do it.

"I have an idea. How about no?"

"Come on," he whines, his head falling forward onto his textbook. "I'm tired."

"Then you should have finished it earlier instead of playing around."

"Please? I'll do your chores for a month, including all the cooking, cleaning and yard work." I keep my face blank. It is a good offer, but I know the punishment will be greater than the prospect of having a chore-free month if I give him the answers. "I'll pay you ten bucks," he offers, seeing his previous proposal isn't working.

"No."

"Twenty bucks and two months' worth of chores. Please?"

"You know, in all this time begging for me to give you the answers, you could have just looked them up and had them done. This assignment Mr. Banner gave us was the easiest of the year so far."

He still has a pleading look on his face, and instead of handing him the answers on a silver platter, I toss my book onto the couch and take a quick peek to see what questions he has left. With an exasperated sigh, I flip to the page the answers are on and shove the textbook in his direction.

"The answers are on these two pages." Technically, I'm not giving him the answers … I'm just showing him where they are. Exactly like the teacher did.

He huffs, but reads through the two, side-by-side pages and quickly writes them down. When he's finished, he slams the book shut, letting out a content sigh.

"Finally. No thanks to you, by the way."

I ignore him, not affected by his remark. Jasper stretches his arms and legs, releasing a loud yawn as he does so, prompting a yawn from me.

"Time for bed."

Jasper nods, shoving his things into his backpack and throwing it near the door. He does a quick check to make sure everything is locked while I turn off the lights. We exchange goodnights and start to go to our rooms.

Just as I'm ready to get into bed, I realize I don't have my water bottle.

Reluctantly, I drag myself down the steps and make my way to the kitchen. Filling the bottle, I hear a noise coming from the back door. Nothing is out of place, and the door is closed—but unlocked. That very rarely occurs. Dad is a stickler about stuff like that, not to mention I know Jasper would have made sure it was locked.

Something feels extremely weird about this, but come on, this is the Chief of Police's house. Even if it's someone from out of town, they would see the cruiser parked in the driveway and they'd run in the other direction.

I decide it's nothing but my imagination as I grab my water from the counter and turn off the lights. Just as the room is engulfed in darkness, a loud growl emanates throughout the space, the sound of it seemingly in stereo.

My eyes are slow to adjust, and I can barely make out Edward's face, but I know it's him. I'd recognize his messy hair anywhere. I take a step back, wanting to distance myself from him but he blurs toward me, his arm winding around my waist and crushing me to his front.

In the blink of an eye, he leans down, his black eyes glittering angrily under the soft glow of the light outside. He bites into my neck, slicing through my skin like butter. My eyes widen, and I suck in a choked breath as warm blood cascades down my chest, soaking my shirt. A strange growl emanates from him, and he tightens his hold, his hand bending my body back at an impossible angle.

A sickening snap echoes throughout the room and I scream ... before everything goes black.

* * *

**Um ... don't mind me. I'll just be going into hiding now ... :D**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, all! I won't talk much. I'll just let you get on with the chapter! ;) **

**Fran, thank you for beta'ing. Mr G and Me and Monica03, thank you for pre-reading. I appreciate your help and support so much! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

I'm dead.

Well, this sucks.

Darkness surrounds me, stretching on for eons, with no end in sight. With the way books and movies describe death, it's some wonderful, weightless place where you're happy and feel free. In all honesty, I feel none of those things. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wonder if there's someone I can sue or haunt for lying to me.

I'm a pretty good person … most of the time. I think I deserve one cloud, an angel … or a weightless, numb feeling. Yeah, feeling no pain would be great right about now.

Vaguely, I hear something muffled and far away. I concentrate harder, hearing my name spoken in a voice that's frantic and filled with fear.

It sounds like ... Jasper?

Did Edward kill him too? If he did, I'm going to haunt his murdering ass.

My head throbs in time with my thrumming heart, threatening to burst from my chest. I bring my arms up to cover my ears, but they fall onto the unforgiving surface, flopping like fish. My knuckles smash against the hardness, my fingers twitching in pain with each descent.

Tiny bits of clarity and awareness enter my brain gradually, but I'm still majorly confused as to what happened tonight.

I clearly remember Edward's furious face as he rushed toward me and snapped me in half like a twig. I shouldn't be feeling pain if I'm dead. I'm pretty sure that's the _one _thing you don't feel when you're a ghost. So what's going on here?

Am I not dead?

Light slapping on my cheeks as well as Jasper's repeated calling of my name helps the fogginess fade, and I cling to it, grasping and pulling at the sensations until I feel more alert and open my eyes.

A blurry face is in my direct line of sight, too close, and still patting my cheeks with more force than necessary. Once more, my mind flashes to Edward's angry face, and my heart pounds faster, accelerating the throbbing in my head. With more strength than I think I had, I push the person away and scramble backward, my sweaty palms slipping against the cool, slick floor.

My arms flail outward, my elbows hitting the laminate floor with a resounding _thud _that makes my teeth audibly click together. The figure in front of me moves closer, reaching out and I shove my hands forward and shuffle backward again before hitting the wall, hissing between my teeth.

"What the hell, Bella?"

I rapidly blink, trying to see through the darkness.

Jasper sits back, a scowl on his face as he rubs his chest.

"You _punched _me," he complains. "Why in the blue hell would you punch me?"

"Why the hell is hell blue?" I mumble before addressing his previous complaint. "And what did you expect? You were in my face, and I was disoriented." I rub the back of my head, hissing as I hit a sore spot. "What happened?"

"I was going to ask _you _that_,_" he mutters, still rubbing his chest. "You made enough noise to wake a bear, and you were flopping around on the floor like a fish. What happened?"

I take a moment to think about it, ignoring what _didn't _happen. I had filled my water bottle and heard a strange noise. I turned and saw—

I _saw_ him!

I know I saw Edward Cullen standing in front of me … or was it outside? He did seem a little blurry, so I'm going to guess he was outside.

_That's _what startled me. I hadn't expected to see someone looking into the window. It's something that creeps me out, both in movies and in real life.

The sound of thundering footsteps echoes throughout the house, and in a second, Jasper and I are surrounded.

"What is going on?" Dad snaps. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" It takes a minute for my father's sleepy brain to process what he's seeing. When it clicks that Jasper and I are on the floor, he kneels down beside us. "What happened?"

My mother kneels next to him, her hair in two intricate braids hanging down her back. A disheveled Rose stands behind her, looking very displeased, but that changes in an instant when she sees me on the floor, holding my head. She kneels, gently pushing my head forward and softly running her fingers over the back of my skull, quietly asking me questions. I answer as best I can, but it's difficult due to Jasper's complaining.

"I don't know. I was in bed, and I heard a loud noise. When I came out and looked, I found her lying on the floor. I went to wake her, and she punched me!" Jasper complains.

"There's no bump and no blood," Rose murmurs, completely ignoring her brother. Gently, she pushes me back, so I'm leaning against the wall and helps me adjust, so I'm sitting more comfortably. "Are you okay?"

I nod as Dad chuckles proudly. "Well, at least we know there's nothing wrong with your reflexes, Bella."

Mom hits his shoulder lightly, keeping her attention on us. "What happened?"

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I saw Edward. I think he was looking in the window."

Immediately, dad is on his feet. He snatches the flashlight from the floor and grabs something from the shelf above my head, mumbling under his breath.

"Are you sure?" Rose questions, skeptical. "Perhaps your eyes are playing tricks on you."

I shrug because honestly, I'm _not _sure what I saw was real. I mean, if it were, I'd be dead right now. There's no way I could survive having my back snapped. No way in hell.

At the same time, my reflection doesn't look like a messy-haired, angst-ridden boy.

"I don't know. Maybe I didn't see _him, _but I saw _someone._"

"Great, and I sleep down here alone," Jasper mumbles, but I hear him loud and clear. "I'll be killed first. You're welcome."

Rolling my eyes, I turn to Rose, who shakes her head in disapproval.

"Why would he be _here, _looking in our windows?" She trails off with a sigh. "I told you, you watch too many horror movies. It's messed with your head."

"Knock it off, Rosalie," Jasper barks.

She starts to refute, but this time my father breaks it up. "Enough. Sit down on the floor."

Without a second thought, Rose wraps an arm around me, grasping Mom's hand tightly, who has put an arm around Jasper. I have to admit, I'm in awe of the way everyone just does what he says so quickly.

It has to be the scary Chief of Police voice. I have to master that.

"You all stay right here. I mean it. Do _not_ move, do _not_ speak, and do _not_ make a sound until I get back. If you hear something unusual, Renee, take the kids, barricade yourselves in Jasper's room and call for backup. Understood?"

We all nod, knowing he's taking this seriously, so we must do the same. He nods once and goes out the back door, closing it with a firm hand. The beam from the flashlight dances around before disappearing and then illuminating the front windows. The four of us sit in silence, daring not to breathe, let alone move.

Everything can be heard clearly; the crunching of leaves underneath Dad's feet; the wind howling through the trees; the dog barking from next door; the faint sound of cicadas and crickets from the woods, providing an eerie background sound, perfect for this situation.

Nearly ten minutes later, Dad comes back inside, replacing the items he took and jerking his head toward the kitchen.

Rose and Jasper slip a hand around my upper arm and hoist me up. We all obediently follow, still silent. Dad sits in his usual chair, Mom standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders. Rose, Jasper and I take a seat and look toward Dad.

"I didn't find much outside, just some disturbance in the mud, but that could have been animal. If it _was_ a person, well, there are plenty of places to hide in the woods."

Mom gasps, and the only sign Dad gives that he hears her is a pat on her hand.

"Now, Bella, tell me what happened. What do you remember?" Dad asks, looking at me.

"I saw someone standing in front of the window, looking in."

"You said earlier you thought it was Edward."

I sigh, slouching down in the chair. To be honest, I could have sworn I _did _see Edward. I may be crazy, but I'm not ready for a straitjacket yet. Obviously, I know he didn't attack me, but my gut is telling me I _did _see him. But how do I say that without sounding crazy?

I guess I don't. Not right now, anyway. Not until I get the answers _myself_.

"I also thought I broke my back, so I'm not a reliable source. I guess I hit my head harder than I thought."

Dad hums, lost in thought as Rose turns, looking at me, a worried expression still on her face. My mother rushes to my other side, her hands outstretched over me, like she wants to comfort me, but is afraid to. To ease her worry, I take her hand, and she squeezes it tightly, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of my head.

"Did you lose consciousness for very long?" Rose questions, ready to jump up if need be.

I shrug in response to her question, because I'm not sure, but Jasper answers for me.

"She wasn't out for long. I came out here pretty fast; maybe twenty seconds?"

"Okay. Any dizziness? Nausea? Headache? Aside from you hitting your head?"

I don't even bat an eyelash at her rapid-fire questions. Rose is a walking book on injuries and how to fix them. Dad is staring at me intently, waiting for my answer, which I quickly give.

"No."

Dad blows out a relieved breath, sinking down a little in his chair. "Good. That's good."

Rose looks between Dad and me her eyebrows drawn together and her lips in a frown. "Shouldn't we take her to the hospital?"

"No," I answer firmly. "I'm fine. Honestly."

Mom makes a noise of disapproval, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe we should, just in case. Better safe than sorry."

Rose and Jasper nod in approval, I fiercely disagree.

"No. I'm fine."

Mom doesn't look convinced, but a resigned look comes over her at seeing my resolve. A second later, she brightens up and heads to the phone. "I can call Carlisle! I'm sure he'll make a house call."

Vaguely, I hear Rose murmur her agreement, but it's lost underneath the harsh scraping of the chair legs against the floor as I jump up, shaking my head. "Mom, no. That's not necessary."

"Well, you're going to the doctor tomorrow then. End of discussion ... and you're taking this," she says, handing me a couple of painkillers and some water.

I down them quickly, and immediately begin my argument. "Mom, I don't need to go. I'm fi—"

"Bella, it's a good idea to go, just in case," Jasper interrupts.

I start to dispute his words, but Dad cuts me off.

"Bella, enough; you're going. Renee," Dad holds an arm out to her, and she comes to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Stop arguing; you need to go. You're so stubborn, it's bordering on foolish," Rose mutters. I glare at her, and she gazes at me impassively before leaning toward me as Mom and Dad quietly talk to one another.

"I won't apologize for being concerned about you. Either of you," she whispers, looking between Jasper and me. "You were hurt. You need to see someone."

"_I'm_ fine," I whisper back. "You worry too much."

"That's true," Jasper agrees. Before I can gloat, he speaks again. "But you do need a doctor. I've been saying this for years," he jokes.

Narrowing my eyes, I start to tell him where he should shove his jokes when Mom's fearful tone distracts me.

"Charlie, do you know who it could have been? Who in their right mind would try to break into _our _house? You're the Chief of Police for crying out loud."

We all sit in silence, watching Dad as he thinks.

"It might—"

"Do you think it was Royce?" Rose asks, interrupting Dad. Her eyes dart around the room, and her hands go to her tank top, pulling it up higher on her chest. Her shoulders slump inward, and her head ducks slightly lower, looking at us through her lashes.

It wouldn't be surprising if it were him, considering he _did _stalk her and stand in the woods outside of our house before, but I _know _it wasn't him.

When she speaks again, there's a slight tremble in her voice. "He's promised revenge toward Bella and me for quite some time, and Bella had an altercation with him recently. He was kind of provoked."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I question, sitting up straighter in my chair. "If it had been him, would it have been my fault because I don't take his shit?"

"What? No, of course not!" She looks aghast at the suggestion, but I don't back down.

"Really? Because that's what it sounded like. I didn't start any of the fights with him. _He _initiated it all. All I did was stand up to him. I'm not going to roll over and let him attack me."

She reaches out and squeezes my arm. I look into her eyes and see nothing but sincerity as she looks back at me. "Bella, no, I didn't mean that."

"But you said it." I hate the way I sound; to my ears, I sound whiny and childish, but I can't help it. I can take a lot of shit from many people, Rose included, but being told I'm responsible for Royce's retaliation kind of pushes my limit. Especially tonight.

If I'm being honest, sure, I can be calmer when dealing with him. I can walk away and pretend what he says and does doesn't affect me, but it won't work. I know from firsthand experience how much he hates to be ignored and then he gets angrier than ever. In my opinion, it's better to stop it before it gets to a point where he tries to beat the shit out of you and take advantage of the unconscious state you're in.

While I know it's not good for me to antagonize him because of his anger issues, I also won't stand by and let him touch me without my permission. Since he doesn't understand the word "no," I make sure he gets the message another way.

Rose makes a frustrated noise from the back of her throat, her eyes darting over my face frantically and the grip she has on my arm tightens to an uncomfortable level. "I didn't mean it! I just meant that he's the number one suspect for breaking in here. He's had it out for us for a long time, plus you _did _punch him recently. _If _he had broken in, I wouldn't blame you for _his _actions. Just give me a break, all right? It's late, and I'm tired and you _know _I would never blame you for anything, Bella. Never."

I nod. I don't doubt her words; one of the admirable things about Rose is she believes everyone is responsible for their own actions. Placing blame on someone else for what another person did isn't her style, especially in this circumstance.

"Can I continue now?" Dad asks, dragging a hand down his weary face. Once he sees he has our attention, he speaks. "It was probably Waylon."

"Waylon?" we all repeat in sync, bewildered.

Why on earth would _he, _of all people in Forks, be standing outside of our house? He's too drunk most of the time to walk one foot, let alone the six blocks from the bar to here.

"Why do you think it's him?" Jasper questions.

"It wouldn't be the first time. His drinking has gotten severely out of control, and his behavior is getting more brazen and violent. He's been arrested for breaking and entering, theft and resisting arrest. No one wants to press charges because we all grew up with him." He sighs heavily, shaking his head with a deep frown. The struggle of his wayward childhood friend is obvious on his face; from the worry swimming in his eyes to the deep-set of his frown.

I don't know what happened to cause Waylon to drink so much, but all of my memories are of him being wasted. I remember asking Dad about it at one point, but he never gave me a concrete answer. All he said was that Waylon lost his way.

When I was younger, I didn't know what it meant, but now, I think I might have an idea. On the rare occasion I see Waylon staggering around Forks, I saw a wedding ring on his finger, but can't ever recall hearing anything about his wife.

"Now, it could have been someone else, and I'll do some investigating tomorrow and take care of it," Dad says, breaking into my thoughts. "I'm also going to put a new security system in, and we _all _have to make sure every door and every window is shut and locked each night, understood?"

We answer affirmatively, which pleases him.

"Good. I know some of you like to sleep with the window open and I'll come up with an alternative solution for that, but right now, until I find out who it was, keep 'em closed. Also, no going near the doors or windows after I've locked them. In other words, a curfew has been put into effect for this house starting now. No leaving after ten."

We answer affirmatively again, and Dad rises from his chair, taking Mom's hand.

"All right. For the rest of the night, I'll be on the couch, so no one startle me. Mostly, because you'll scare me and I'll be armed. Cops don't do well in prison."

"Why are you telling this to us?" Jasper asks, pointing between himself and Rose. "Bella is the scariest one here."

Dad shakes a finger at Jasper. "Now, now. You're _all _terrors. Sometimes I think I need holy water to deal with you all. I've honestly been too scared to try it. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose."

We laugh as my mom looks on with disapproval. "Charlie, don't joke about things like that."

"What? You know I love our kids. I would rather die than have _anything _happen to them, especially by my own hand. Besides, if now isn't a good time to joke, then when is?"

She fights a smile, kissing his cheek before Dad bids us goodnight and shuffles into the living room. Mom kisses our heads and quietly tells us we can come get her if we need her before ordering us to get some sleep and going to bed herself.

"Bella, I'm going to sit with you and wake you every hour, just in case, okay?"

"No," I immediately answer, balking at Rose's suggestion. I won't be able to get any rest with someone in the room watching me. That's just too creepy, even for me. "I mean, no thanks. I'll be fine."

"I don't think we should risk it."

"Look, I'm fine, okay? The pain is starting to go away, and I wasn't out for very long. I'm fine. I probably didn't even hit my head that hard anyway."

There's a pensive look on her face I don't like, especially when she agrees and backs off on the idea. "All right. I'll see you in the morning. If either one of you need me, you know where I am."

Before following after her, I turn to Jasper who is about to depart into his room. "Sorry for punching you, you big baby."

He laughs, waving me off. "It's okay. I should know better, huh?"

"Yep." He really should. He knows I have a fight reflex.

The humor in his face fades, concern replacing it. "Are you okay, though? For real?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Goodnight."

"Hey, Bella?"

I pause in the middle of the stairs, waiting for him to speak.

"Did you really—"

"What?" I inquire when he stops with a heavy sigh.

He scrubs a hand over his face, shaking his head, trailing off in a harsh laugh. "Nothing. It's … nothing. I need more sleep."

"So do I! Go to bed," Dad calls from the living room before I can say anything.

Jasper and I laugh, murmuring our goodnights as we head to our rooms.

Through my closed door, I hear the muffled sound of a dog barking like mad. Curious and wondering why the hell the neighbor's dog is barking so wildly, I step inside, heading toward the partially open window.

Scanning the yard below, I immediately spot the Stephens' brown and black bulldog, Daisy, at the edge of the chain-link fence. Her body poised straight like an arrow as she growls and furiously barks at the tree line a few feet away.

At first, I think she must be barking at another animal, but with the vicious and angry sounds she's making, it leads me to believe it's something or _someone _else.

I kneel down on my knees, trying to peer through the dark trees and faint yellow light of the porch light, but it's too difficult. The best I can make out is the entrance to the forest; small trees and worn bushes stand stiffly, guarding what lies behind them.

"Come on, come out," I mumble, squinting into the darkness.

As soon as the words leave my lips, Daisy quiets, her head tilting to the side for a moment. She releases one last combination of a huffing bark and growl before turning and trotting back to the house. I can only hope she slipped through the doggy door and went back inside, where it's safe.

I remain where I am, still looking at the trees.

Who or what could have been out there? Edward? Waylon?

My gut is telling me it's Edward, but my mind isn't so sure.

I suppose the only thing I can do is ask him flat out and see what he says. I'm sure I won't get a truthful answer, but I can tell when someone is lying and Edward will be no different.

8*8*8*8*8*8

In the morning, I oversleep by fifteen minutes, thanks to Rose and Mom waking me every hour. I'm pretty sure the pair of them camped outside of my room, their cell phones set to go off at the appropriate times.

Mom was the first to back off at hour two, but Rose didn't; she ignored my grouchiness and the _colorful _words I sent her way and declared me fine every time she woke me.

I mean, I'm thankful I'm not in a coma or something, but I'm completely exhausted and highly irritable.

Scrambling to get dressed, I rush through my morning routine and stumble down the stairs, seeing Rose and Jasper just about to leave.

"Thanks for waiting," I mutter, reaching to snatch a banana off the table, only to pause when Mom lays her hand on mine.

"You're not going to school today, sweetie."

My mouth drops open for a moment; this is my dream. A day off so early in the school year? It's hardly ever happened unless I've been deathly ill, and even _that's _very rare.

I want to agree and go back upstairs to catch up on my missed sleep, but if I do that, then I won't get any answers from Edward.

Reluctantly, I sigh and shake my head. "Sorry, I have to."

"I mean," Mom clarifies. "You're not going. You're going to stay home, go to the doctor for a checkup and afterward you're going to rest. This isn't a suggestion."

Before she's done speaking, I'm shaking my head. "No, I'm fine! You and Rose woke me up every hour, and I'm fine."

"I know we did, but I would feel more comfortable if you were looked at. We all would," she replies, waving a hand to the duo standing behind me.

Turning, I narrow my eyes at Rose, knowing she was behind this.

She smiles in satisfaction, confirming my thoughts. Despite her happiness about the situation, there's worry swimming in her eyes. "Just get checked out for our sakes, okay? Besides, I think it's needed. You never want to go to school."

Jasper nods in agreement. "Really. I thought you'd be back upstairs by now," he says suspiciously.

I clear my throat, trying to come up with an answer. How can I tell them the _real _reason I want to go is to interrogate Edward about last night? I _need_ to know, for my sanity's sake.

"I have a project due soon, and I want to get it done."

"There will plenty of time for that later. I'm sure you got a lot done yesterday," Mom interrupts, stepping in front of Rose and Jasper. "You two get going, or you're going to be late."

Rose nods. "Text me after her appointment."

Mom murmurs her agreement, and I wave goodbye to my cousins, sitting at the table heavily. I suppose waiting one more day won't hurt.

Seconds later, Mom comes breezing back into the room, quickly clearing the table and setting down a bowl of oatmeal and fruit in front of me.

"Eat up. You have an appointment at nine."

"If it turns out I'm okay, can you drop me off at school?"

Mom smirks over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes twinkling with humor. "We'll see. Eat."

I grumble under my breath, not looking forward to seeing Dr. Gerandy. The man is nice, but you can hardly understand him when he speaks, and his examinations are more than a little rough.

To add to it, if you wince while he's prodding you, he asks, "Oh, did that hurt?"

_No. It's just a facial tick I have when someone jams their fingers in the side of my neck. _

"Where's Dad?" I question, noting his place at the table is clear of dishes.

Mom gives me a thin smile before looking down into her almond-colored coffee cradled between her hands. "He was called in early this morning. A friend of his from Port Angeles needed help."

Her words cause a familiar sinking feeling in my gut. The bulletin board in the Port Angeles café flashes into the forefront of my mind, filled with the faces of missing people.

Has someone else gone missing?

The thought has me sitting back, swallowing through the thickness in my throat. I can barely force down the food in front of me. It's only Mom's pleading that gets me to choke it down.

Shortly after breakfast is finished, I help Mom gather the laundry, and toss it all in the laundry room before heading out for my appointment.

In the waiting room of the doctor's office, I sit back in the armchair, shifting as the wooden beam underneath the worn cushion pokes me uncomfortably.

The office is surprisingly sparse, with only one other person who came in as we did. Hopefully, I'll be able to get out of here soon and get the go-ahead to return to school.

I need my answers.

Mom shifts next to me, wincing with a scowl. "I think these are the same chairs that were here when I was in high school."

I laugh, and before long, my name is called. I follow the nurse toward one of the exam rooms, quickly going through the usual pre-exam routine and telling her why I'm here today. She nods with a serious look on her face, asking additional questions and writing it down in my chart.

When she's done, she closes my file with a flick of her wrist and smiles. When she looks at me head-on, I notice her eyes are red and puffy, with streaks of faded makeup still on her cheeks.

"The doctor will be in shortly."

With a nod and sigh, I glance over at Mom. She's staring at the door with her eyebrows drawn together, the corner of her lip in between her teeth.

Sensing my stare, she releases her lip and sits forward, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "I was thinking, why don't we have a movie day, huh? We'll eat junk food and lounge around. Sound fun?"

In all honesty, it _does _sound like fun. It's been too long since we've had a mother-daughter day, but my curiosity and thirst for answers seems to be winning out. I'm startled by the thought, wondering if I do have a concussion after all.

Before I can reply, a solid knock sounds from the other side of the door. A second later, Dr. Gerandy steps in, and I refrain from sighing heavily, as he jumps into the examination.

Thirty minutes later, I'm declared perfectly fine, though I'm sure I have some bruises thanks to Dr. Gerandy's bony fingers. While Mom speaks with the receptionist, I quickly text Rose the results. I'm sure she'll check it during lunch, but by then, I can tell her myself. To my surprise, she replies within moments.

_**Good, I'm glad. Are you staying home? I'll bring your homework. ~R**_

Mom is back before I can reply, asking if I'm ready to go. I nod, following her out of the small office. As we step into the main area of the hospital, I spot Dr. C on the far side of the hallway, talking with Edward.

The expression on Carlisle's face is pained as he speaks with his son, his eyes filled with sadness and pleading. Edward runs a hand through his hair and grimaces at what he's being told, lightly flinching before casting his gaze down to the floor.

Carlisle continues to speak, laying a hand on his son's shoulder and bending slightly so he can look him in the eye. Edward lifts his head, listening intently as Carlisle pokes at his own chest, where his heart rests. Carlisle shakes his head at Edward's response, gripping his shoulder and shaking him once.

For a moment, I feel bad for watching; it's obvious the conversation is a heavy one, but I can't seem to look away.

Carlisle removes his hand from Edward's shoulder and steps back. Edward nods once, his eyes flashing up to mine before looking back at his father. This time, they both turn to look at me, and I jerk my head to the left, staring at a poster for flu vaccinations.

I wait a moment and look back, seeing Carlisle heading my way and Edward nowhere to be found. I scan over the small crowd of people milling about, spotting his familiar head of copper hair heading toward the exit.

Behind me, Mom is now speaking with one of her friends. I wait for a break in their conversation before telling her I'll wait for her outside. She looks hesitant but eventually nods. I spin around and come face to face with Carlisle.

He smiles, but his forehead is puckered, his eyes swimming with worry. "Bella, what a surprise to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I mumble, distracted. "Just a check-up. I hit my head."

"Did you see someone? You don't have a concussion, do you?"

He has concern in his voice, and I can see he's genuine with his inquiry. I nod, giving him my full attention.

"I'm fine. Well, I'm sure others will tell you otherwise, but that's not what they mean. Physically, I'm fine," I joke. "And yes, I just saw Dr. Gerandy."

He laughs. "Good." He pauses for a moment. "You're looking for my son."

I stop, and I have to refrain from laughing in astonishment. This is the second time in two days that two different Cullen's have made a statement about Edward rather than asking me.

"Yes, I am. I need to speak to him."

He nods, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I won't keep you then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

I thank him and hurry away, hearing muffled laughter come from behind me. I pay it no mind and rush outside, scanning the area. I spot Edward striding through the parking lot, his focus clearly on the black car just a few feet in front of him.

"Edward!"

His back straightens, but he continues on, quickening his pace. I narrow my eyes, knowing he heard me.

Increasing my speed-walking into a full-blown run, I chase him down, coming to a panting stop at his bumper.

"Hey, I … was … talking … to … you," I say in between gasping for breath.

"What do you want?"

His harsh tone and snappy words have me grinding my teeth and wanting to spew obscenities, but I refrain.

For now.

"I have something to ask you."

The muffled sound of a rock 'n roll song meets my ears, and to my surprise, Edward pulls out his cell phone, the music blaring from the tiny device. My eyebrows raise high on my forehead; I pictured him as more of a classical music kind of guy.

"I'm fine, Alice," he says, answering while answering. He pauses for a second, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. "Yeah. I'll be there soon. Bye."

He looks expectantly at me, waving his hand in the air in a 'continue on' motion. "Well?"

"Why were you at my house last night?"

I study him closely, watching for any flinch or guilty look, but there's nothing except a blank annoyed expression.

"What purpose would I have to be at your house? I mean,_ why _would I be there?"

Well, he has a point.

For a moment, I think I'm wrong about this entire situation. Did I see things or not?

No. I may have dreamt of him killing me, but I know I was startled for a reason.

I'm almost positive he was there. If he wasn't, then he'll look at me like I'm crazy and I'll apologize and get back inside for a second opinion. If there's any other reaction, I'll press him for answers.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I tap my foot against the concrete. "That's what I want to know."

His eyes go wide, and his jaw drops as he sputters. "You … you're—" he breaks off in a scoff, running a hand through his hair. "You're insane, you know that? You should really have my father look you over for a second opinion. I think you hit your head harder than you thought," he snarls, spinning around and vaulting his body into the car like a cat.

The engine roars to life, the motor revving three times before he zips out of the parking space, the tires squealing against the pavement, leaving black marks against the concrete.

In an effort not be run over, I jump backward, watching as he speeds away, the sound of the engine fading the further away he gets.

I should be mad he almost ran me over, but I can't find it in me to evoke the feeling. Instead, I think over his parting words and smirk, before a cackle bubbles through my lips.

He knew I fell last night, which means he was there.

Just like I thought.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay. It's been a stressful week. **

**Big thanks to Fran for beta'ing and to Mr G and Me and Monica03 for pre-reading. You're awesome! (And all mistakes are my own.) **

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

I can't keep still, no matter how hard I try. My leg bounces and my fingers tap against the Formica surface of the breakfast table, clicking with each pass. One eye is kept on the clock, which is moving too slowly in my opinion.

Has time always moved like this? What. The. Hell.

I try to control my erratic movements by stopping as soon as I'm aware of them, but the curious looks from Rose and Mom tell me I'm not succeeding. They keep their thoughts to themselves, which I'm incredibly grateful for; I have no idea how to explain my behavior without Mom taking me back to the doctor's office for a second opinion.

Dad and Jasper seem oblivious but annoyed as I make unnecessary noise so early in the morning.

Shifting, I tightly cross my legs to keep my legs still, and I fold my arms over my chest to keep my twitching fingers silenced.

Stealing another look at the clock, I sigh a little too loudly when I notice no significant amount of time has passed. Rose raises a single eyebrow in question and my shoulder jerks upward as I look pointedly away.

I need to keep my cool before Rose says something, though now I figure it's only a matter of time.

I just want to go. Now.

I didn't argue the other day after Mom said I shouldn't go to school. This was mainly because I had gotten my answer. I _did _see Edward at my house; he all but confirmed it when he mentioned my fall.

Plus, it was _school. _I wasn't going unless I didn't have to.

Now, I have more questions for Edward, like w_hy _was he at my house so late, peeking in my windows?

Normally, I would have stretched my injury out for a few days, but I can't do that. My burning need for answers had me up before my alarm went off this morning and eating breakfast before Dad's first cup of coffee.

When it's time to go, I'm waiting by the door, my foot tapping in an irregular rhythm against the floor as I wait.

Rose slowly walks toward me as Jasper talks with my parents in the kitchen, their gentle voices hard to hear. If I know Jasper, he's questioning about whether or not I'm okay; and it's _not _because he's concerned.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She shakes her head, watching me with cautious eyes. "No reason. It's just … you seem eager to go to _school._"

"I'm not. It's just …" I want to share what I've found out, but until then, I need more answers. I try to think of an excuse to pacify her curiosity and blurt out the first that comes to mind. "I want to get this project done. The sooner, the better."

Rose hums, raising a brow and pursing her lips. There's a heavy silence hanging around us as we stare at each other, both of us unwavering. I don't blink until she looks away, calling for Jasper as she shoulders her backpack. He walks in slowly, coming to stand next to his sister, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Do we need a priest? Or is she a pod person?"

He's such a smartass. Although, if I were in his position, I would ask the same thing.

"The two of you and horror movies, I swear!" Rose mumbles. "Come on."

We say goodbye to the parents and head out to the car, while I try to ignore Jasper's staring.

I last until we make it to the car before saying something.

"What?"

"What's up with you? You've been different since the other night."

I shake my head. "I just want this project over with."

Like his twin, he doesn't look convinced. He stares at me for a long moment, eyebrow raised and lip pursed like Rose had looked moments earlier. "I know you; there's something else going on."

Rolling my eyes, I get in the passenger seat. He's not completely wrong; I want answers as to why Edward was being a creeper. Apart from that, I haven't lied. I want this project done and put behind me.

Moments later, we pull into the parking lot of the school. Jumping out of the car, I sweep over the area, but Edward is nowhere to be seen.

I do, however, spot his siblings.

Alice and Emmett stand twenty feet away, leaning against their car as they talk quietly. If all else fails, I can ask one of them where he is.

Seeing the intense look on their faces and their stiff postures, I decide to ask them later. My pace slackens at my name and Edward's being mentioned in the same sentence. Looking over at the pair, I note the deep frown and distressing look in Alice's light golden eyes. My feet falter underneath me as I spin around. In an effort not to fall, I grab hold of the cool metal of the railing, my muscles screaming in protest.

Hissing, I shake my arm and mumble a goodbye to my cousins.

Rose looks quizzical but doesn't say anything. She stares at me for a moment before nodding and walks ahead, disappearing behind the steel double doors. Jasper pauses, looking between Alice and me questioningly. I quietly tell him to go ahead, and after a moment of hesitation, he does.

Alice gives a tight smile as I walk toward her, but rolls her eyes at her brother who whispers something to her. She waves him off with a flick of her wrist, and he presses away from the car, murmuring something to her before jogging toward me … or rather, toward the entrance of the building.

"Hey, Bella. Bye, Bella."

"Bye," I reply, heading toward Alice.

She meets me halfway; one of her hands resting on top of her bookbag, her nails picking at the seam of the rectangular carrying strap.

"Hey. You okay?" I question, eyeing the purple skin underneath her eyes.

"I should be asking _you _that. You weren't at school yesterday. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Minor issue. It's good now."

"Good," she replies.

The smile she gives me negates her tone, and I repeat my original question.

"Fine. I'm just …" she trails off, waving a hand through the air. "It's a whole bunch of things."

I nod, knowing the feeling.

I want to ask if she's upset about Edward since she obviously was talking about him, but before I can ask, she poses a question of her own.

"What are you doing next Saturday?"

I pause, trying to decipher the rush of words that came from her. When they compute, I blink, trying to think of my plans for the next week.

"Oh, I'm going to do my hair."

Her eyes light up in curiosity and a touch of excitement. "Can I do it? I've never dyed someone's hair before."

I hesitate, not wanting to seem rude. Having no experience coloring hair and doing multi-colored streaks is something difficult to do for your first time. I didn't even get good at it until recently. Normally, I have my mother help, or I go to the salon in Port Angeles.

Seeing my hesitation, Alice laughs. "I don't blame you for being hesitant. Do you want to come over to my house afterward? We can watch movies, and I can show you more of my photos."

"Sure."

She grins brightly and does a little jump. "Thank you! It's going to be fun!"

Reaching into her bag, she scribbles something on it and hands it to me. "My cell number," she explains.

Nodding, I put it into my phone and call the number, so she has my number as well. She grins brightly, her fingers flying over the screen as she adds me to her contacts.

The first bell warning bell blares overhead, and I mutter a curse. "Crap. I still have to run to my locker."

"Me too," she replies, sprinting inside along with me.

I get my things and exchange a goodbye with Alice. I can only hope to catch Edward outside of our class. Something tells me he won't be too forthcoming if there's an audience … if he'll be forthcoming at all. But I'll get it out of him.

Rushing through the hall, I skid to a stop at the sight a few feet in front of me.

Rose and Emmett stand close to together, where only a sliver of light pours between them. Emmett is speaking to Rose with a serious look on his face. Her head lolls on her shoulder as if she's not listening to him, but I can see the hard look on her face.

In the next moment, Rose straightens, her jaw clenching. She says something through tight lips before spinning around and stomping into the classroom behind her.

"I know more than you think!" He calls after her, his eyes trained on the doorway she disappeared through, a deep frown on his face.

Looking closer, I notice his eyes are dark, and his lips are pressed tightly together. Seeing me approach, he schools his expression into a more jovial one.

"Hey, Bella."

His words are cheery, but I can detect an underlying tone of melancholy. I eye him suspiciously, wondering why he looks so miserable and angry at the same time.

Is he upset because he keeps getting turned down? Do I have to worry about him? My instincts are telling me no, but you can't be too sure.

"Everything okay?"

He shrugs with a smile. "Peachy. Everything is great."

I hum and nod, not believing him in the slightest.

His expression falters slightly, but he keeps smiling. Before I can ask him anything more, he tells me he has to get to class and walks away with a wave.

Something odd is going with those two … and it has more to do with Emmett's persistence about taking Rose out on a date.

Maybe I'll ask her about it.

Unfortunately, I can't ask her anything now, and if I don't move it, I'll be late to class.

To my dismay, Edward is already in his seat, his posture rigid. His eyes flicker over to me as I walk in, and I can't help the smile that grows as I think of our encounter yesterday. He cocks his head to the side, his golden-brown eyes narrowed. After a moment, he shakes his head and looks away, concentrating on the blackboard.

Glancing toward the clock, I wonder if there's enough time to talk to him. A second later, I get my answer; the bell rings, and the teacher walks in, closing the door with a firm _click_.

Twenty minutes into the lesson, there's a commotion from the back of the room, and everyone collectively looks at the source of the disturbance. Edward lurches from his seat and gathers his books in one sweep, rushing to the front of the room.

The teacher looks up, startled. "Mr. Cullen! Sit down!"

"There's a family emergency," he says, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm leaving."

The teacher says nothing and Edward takes that as his cue to leave. His eyes meet mine for a split second, and I stare at him just as intently as he's staring at me.

I think about our encounter from yesterday, and the same question keeps repeating itself in my mind as if I can push the question at him mentally.

_Why were you there? _

The indifference in his eyes changes to frustration and worry, and soon, an unsettling feeling invades my body like lightning. My stomach flips, and I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the ominous sensation crashing over me.

Breaking eye contact, I focus on my hands, noting the slight tremble in my fingers as I run my fingernails over the coarse edge of the spiral notebook.

The door slams closed as he leaves, and a second later, the room erupts in a wave of noise.

Shocked gasps, whispers, and indignant huffs fill the room as people either wonder what exactly happened or complain about how Edward thinks he's so special he can simply walk out. I roll my eyes at all of them, though I _am _curious as to what happened.

If the feeling simmering in my gut is anything to go by, it can't be good, and it makes me wonder why I have such a bad feeling over something regarding the Cullen's.

Sure, I don't want anything bad to happen to them, but I've never felt this way over someone else's problems before; especially someone I can hardly get along with.

Shifting straighter in my chair, I attempt to focus on the teacher bringing the class to order and push back the apprehension hanging over me.

_The Cullen's problems have nothing to do with me. _

Maybe if I repeat it enough, it'll sink into my subconscious.

8*8*8*8*8*8

Apparently, Edward isn't the only one who left in a rush during class.

Alice and Emmett had done the same thing Edward had; only they didn't stop to talk to the teacher. They sprinted from the room, shouting _family emergency_ over their shoulders.

By the end of the lunch, everyone had their own theories about what had happened. None of them were the truth; you could tell in the way the stories were told or how many details were added to them. The only story I believed is the one Jess relayed to me.

Outside of the cafeteria, she had approached me with a cautious, barely there smile, and asked if Alice was all right. It was then she told me of Alice and Emmett's sudden departure. I answered her honestly, confessing I didn't know a thing, but I would pass along Jess' condolences for whatever crisis Alice was going through.

Jess thanked me quietly and scurried off to the library, where she preferred to spend her lunch.

I had texted Alice shortly after talking to Jess, disappointed she wasn't there. In the short amount of time I've known her, I've come to really enjoy her company.

Jasper joined me briefly at the start of lunch, telling me what he'd heard and asked if what Edward did was true.

I rolled my eyes and confirmed it, knowing he wouldn't stop until he got the _scoop. _He left soon after, no doubt to listen to the gossip and talk about his own findings.

When the end of the day rolls around, the chatter hasn't stopped. Every other person I've passed in the hall seems to have the _inside scoop_ through one of the Cullens. Each story is different, and each one I hear makes me roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they're not stuck looking at my brain.

My phone buzzes as soon as I turn it on, and I find Alice's message waiting for me.

_**Thanks for the concern. Everything is okay. Just a slight scare; nothing too serious. Talk to you later! ~A**_

I type back a quick response, tempted to ask her if she can give me her brother's cell number. I highly doubt the number he gave me is his personal number. I just don't see that happening.

Now that I know everything is fine, I want my answers.

But which is better? A phone call or talking face to face?

Deciding a face to face meeting is better, I pocket my phone and gather my things, but they immediately fall onto the floor as my shaky hands are unable to hold them. I can hear scattered laughter from around me and I sharply jerk my head upward with narrowed eyes, chuckling when they look away.

The gloomy feeling from earlier starts to slither its way up my spine. Taking a deep breath, I push away the feeling as I lean against the locker, reminding myself that I'm being silly.

I repeat this for a minute before releasing a breath. Slowly, the feeling abates, and I laugh once more, shaking my head.

What is going on with me?

I need more sleep and a few stress-free days.

Out in the parking lot, Rose is waiting in the car, pensively staring out of the windshield as she drums her fingers against the steering wheel. There's no indication she sees me walk up until I open the passenger door and slide into the seat.

She jumps, breathing out a laugh with a hand over her heart. "Geez. I didn't see you."

"I figured." I pause, questions about what I had seen earlier between her and Emmett on my tongue. She gives me a small smile, her gaze focusing on my shoulder unblinkingly.

Even at lunch, she was this way, brooding and distracted as if she's trying to find a solution for a difficult math problem. It makes me wonder what Emmett said to her to make her this way.

Only one way to find out, I suppose.

"Everything okay?"

Her eyes snap to mine, and she nods once in a jerky movement like she doesn't have control over her body.

"Yeah. Why?"

I shrug a shoulder. "No reason. You've been distracted since this morning. Did Emmett do anything?" Her eyes widen as I speak, clarifying my statement before she thinks I've been spying on her. "I saw you two talking this morning outside of your class."

Her mouth drops open in "o" as she slowly nods. "Yeah. He's just …" she trails off for a moment, thinking. "He said something that made me think about the choices I've made, that's all."

"In regards to going out with him?" I question, hoping she'll shed light on the situation.

"Surprisingly, no. He hasn't done that in a while. It was … other stuff."

She doesn't elaborate, and I don't push her for more, even though I want to. She's not offering it, and I know better than to press her. Until she's figured what she needs, I have to beat down my curiosity and focus on something else.

Like Jasper.

Peering out of the windshield, I look for him in a crowd of people, wondering if he's running late or talking with his friends. I spot him a minute later, chatting with Ben and Tyler and nodding his head, an excited smile on his face.

Sensing my stare, he looks over and holds up his index finger, in the universal sign that means 'wait a minute.' About a minute later, he jogs over to the car, leaning down so he can address Rose as well.

"Hey, I'm going to hang out with Ben and Tyler at the arcade. I'll catch a ride home with them, okay?"

"Did you text Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie?"

He gives Rose a look that clearly says, 'What do you think?' but nods anyway before waving goodbye, leaving us to head home on our own.

The sight of Dad's cruiser in the driveway has my palms sweating and my heart thundering in my chest. My mind runs rampant with the possibilities of why he's home so early, and none of them are good.

Unsnapping my seatbelt, I hear the metal hit the window with a loud _clink _as it bounces off the side.

Rushing from the car, I slam the car door and race up the steps, hearing Rose rush after me. I expect her to say something about the mistreatment of her car, but her eyes are intent on the house.

Throwing open the door, I race into the house, immediately spotting Dad in his recliner, his left arm wrapped in blue plaster and an array of bruises coloring his upper arm and jaw.

"Hey, kids. How was school?"

Rose and I exchange astonished looks before looking back at him, mouths gaping.

"'How was school?'" I repeat, "Really? That's not important! What happened to you?"

Dad waves his uninjured arm in a dismissive motion. Unable to contain myself, I grab that same hand and squeeze tightly, sighing in relief. He's alive; he's here. "Oh, just a little accident at work. I wasn't paying attention and took a little tumble. It's fine," he replies.

The way his voice hardens and his jaw clenches tells me it's anything other than _fine. _

"Are you sure? Why didn't you text us?" Rose asks, sitting on the coffee table near him.

"Because we knew you'd worry," Mom says, ambling into the room. She meets my eyes for half a second, but it's all I need; her eyes are red and puffy, and her cheeks are a blotchy pink. I have a feeling something other than a simple fall occurred.

"Okay, what really happened? You look upset, Mom," I say, following her with my eyes as she comes to rest on the armrest of Dad's good side.

He pulls her closer to him, resting against her side. In turn, Mom wraps an arm around his shoulder, leaning her head on top of his, her hand gripping the shoulder of his shirt in a white-knuckled grip.

The energy in my body drains, and I slowly sink on the floor, resting on my knees. I will my heart to calm, reminding myself that Dad's okay.

"Of course I was," she replies with a light laugh. "Someone called to tell me my husband was injured at work. I thought the worst." She pauses, leaning over to kiss the side of Dad's head. "Luckily, I was immediately reassured as soon as I got to the hospital."

"Really, girls, everything is okay. I'll be sore for a few days, but I'll live." Dad reaches over and pats Rose's hand once. She forces a smile and nods once, her eyes shiny.

"Are you sure?" Rose whispers brokenly. "The doctor checked over everything thoroughly?"

I nod in agreement, watching Dad's face closely.

"Everything is good," he says, making sure to look us both in the eye. "I promise. I wouldn't lie about this."

"Yeah, I know. I'm going to … um, go upstairs. Shout if you need anything, okay?"

Mom reaches for Rose's arm and whispers something in her ear as she passes. Assurances, I'm sure.

Rose doesn't do well when any of us are hurt, especially Mom and Dad. I'm sure it brings up too many painful memories.

Rose nods at whatever Mom says and heads upstairs.

"Are you sure everything okay?" I press. "You would tell me, right?"

"Of course, but you really don't need to worry," Dad replies.

Standing on trembling legs, I nod once. "Okay, sure," I reply, not believing him in the slightest, but I let it go. He's here and alive; that's all that matters.

Dad reaches forward to stop me with his injured arm and scowls at the plaster. His face is dark as he glares at the cast. After a moment and a gentle nudge from Mom, he focuses on me.

"Sweetie, I'm being honest. I'm fine. You don't need to worry, okay? I'm fine. Sure, I'm a little sore and a little pissed that I have this," he says, shaking his injured arm with a wince. "But I'm fine. I promise. You know if I weren't, I wouldn't keep it from you."

I nod and murmur about going up to my room but stop as Dad calls my name. "Yeah?"

"I finished looking into everything from other night. Spoke to the neighbors; they didn't notice anything, but a couple of 'em had security cameras that caught some parts of our house."

Leaning against the entryway, I raise an eyebrow. "Who was it?"

I'm extremely curious as to what he'll say. I _know _what I saw, but I wonder if Dad found something else. It would be very funny if Dad did find evidence it _was _Edward peeking in our windows.

Maybe _that_ was the family emergency.

Dad jerks a shoulder up. "There was no one. Nothing abnormal on the videos except animals, which is probably what made the tracks I found. Waylon was accounted for, and I highly doubt Edward would be lurking around here. Are you sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you?"

If Edward hadn't said I hit my head, I would honestly believe I was just seeing things. It was late, I was tired, and it _was _dark. However, since Edward _did _mention my injury, I know without a doubt he was here.

I just have to figure out why.

What I'll do afterward, I don't know, but I'll figure it out. I always do.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

The Cullen's are absent from school the rest of the week. It's just two days, but that doesn't matter. For me, it's two days of _delays._

For everyone else, it's two days of sunshine, warmth and the enthusiastic possibility of going to the beach without freezing. Their excited gabbing completely filters out the gossip of the Cullen's rushed exit in the middle of class, their minds on something else for a change.

In an effort to distract myself and pass the time, I continue to work on the project. The teacher gave us an extension on the deadline, so luckily there's a little bit of wriggle room. I work on the project anyway, wanting there to be plenty of time to make changes and corrections once everything is done. There's always something I want to change afterward, so this gives me plenty of time to perfect whatever I need to.

There are still questions to be asked about putting the presentation together, and I swallow back my reluctance and email Edward since he's not at school. Surprisingly, he answers back quickly, answering my questions thoroughly.

More than once, I'm tempted to ask him my personal questions, but refrain. Instead, I work on my half, putting together a rough draft of the presentation and making notes throughout the process.

On Saturday morning, I can't help but snicker when I look out of the window.

Dark, thick clouds hang in the sky, threatening rain. I guess Lauren, Mike, and their horrendous horde will have to find another way to entertain themselves.

On the plus side, they're not polluting the water, so there's that.

The house is quiet, a good sign my parents and Rose are most likely out, and Jasper is still sleeping. Things have been a little hectic since Dad's accident. Jasper panicked about Dad's injury when he saw it, prompting a comforting discussion between the five of us. Rose has been hovering over all of us, and I still find myself checking on Dad more than normal.

He takes it all in stride, though, knowing our concern is coming from a good and loving place.

Thankfully, things have calmed as the days have passed, so there's not a layer of panic and worry shrouding the house.

A light _thump _from the window garners my attention, and I notice the tree branches swaying gently from side to side as the wind blows. With its movement, loose leaves escape, swirling through the air before slowly falling to the ground. A few of them hit my window, the source of the noise.

Leaning toward the glass, I sigh with contentment. The leaves are starting to change colors, their rich green slowly transitioning into beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows. My fingers itch to draw this moment, but one look at my art supply has me frowning.

My pencils are worn down and broken, and to be quite honest; I could use a new sketchbook. My current one is almost full.

Deciding a trip to Port Angeles is needed, I get dressed and head downstairs, seeing Rose isn't gone as I thought. She's at the kitchen table, surrounded by books and papers, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head.

She does a double-take when I enter the kitchen, her mouth falling open at my early appearance.

Well, early for me anyway and it hasn't been by choice.

Lately, my sleep has been disturbed, much to my annoyance. I've been having strange dreams that seem to revolve around one person … Edward.

The dreams are disturbing on a lot of levels; we're either screaming at each other before he kills me or we're making out. I can handle the dreams where he's killing me, but I'm not sure how to handle the fact that a part of me _likes _the other dreams. A lot.

"Has the world ended?" Rose jokes, breaking into my thoughts.

"Nope. Just reformed," I reply, yawning and stretching. "I'm your new leader. Bow down and worship the ground I walk on."

She rolls her eyes, seemingly annoyed, but there's amusement there that's hard to hide.

"What _are _you doing up so early?"

"I need to go to Port Angeles for some art supplies. Wanna come? You can visit Vera or something."

Her eyes light up at the idea but quickly dims. Shaking her head, she runs a finger along the edge of the textbook in front of her, heaving a sigh. "I'd love to … you have _no_ idea, but I need to study. I have a major test coming up, and I don't know the material at all. I'm going to fail."

I roll my eyes. Rose knows the material; she's smart. Otherwise, she wouldn't be in advanced senior-level classes with the option to graduate in January instead of June with the rest of us.

Although seeing her workload, I can understand her doubts and I'm thankful I passed on the chance to graduate early with her. That is just too much work and stress for me to handle.

Mostly because I'm too lazy.

"I won't even go there. Is Jasper up yet?"

"Probably not," she says, her attention back on her books.

I had expected as much, but I decide to ask him anyway.

My knock on his bedroom door goes unanswered, so slowly I open the door with my eyes closed, not wanting to get an eyeful of something I'll need therapy for.

"Jasper?"

Receiving no reply, I open one eye at a time and find the room empty and quite frankly, messy as all hell.

I thought my room was bad, but Jasper's has nothing on mine. Clothes, shoes, books, and even a few dishes are scattered on every surface; the bed, the floor, the dresser. It's a complete and utter disaster.

It's no wonder he leaves the door closed.

Walking back into the kitchen, I point my thumb behind me, directing it toward Jasper's room.

"He's not in there. Did he leave a note?"

Rose looks as puzzled as I feel and shakes her head, rising from the table and going to look for herself. I know the exact moment she's seen the mess because she curses loudly and slams the door behind her.

"Disgusting," she spits. "Ugh. _How _can he stay in there?"

I laugh. "My room isn't that bad. It's practically organized compared to _that._"

"You know what, I'm inclined to agree," she mumbles, pulling out her phone. She taps her foot on the floor as she waits for him to reply. A second later, he does, his voice crackling through the speaker.

"Hey."

"Where are you?"

"In Port Angeles with the guys. Why?"

I frown. Why hadn't he asked me if I wanted to go? I don't want to hang out with his friends, but I could have hitched a ride and saved on gas by taking one car.

Rose's thoughts are the same wavelength, asking him why he didn't tell us.

"First of all," he begins, annoyed. "I told Uncle Charlie and Aunt Renee. They came with me and dropped me off a couple of hours ago. They should be home already," he pauses before speaking again. "You're not my keeper, you know. I don't have to run all of my plans by you."

Rose rolls her eyes and starts to argue, but I interject before they get into a bickering match. "Why didn't you ask me if I wanted to go?"

He's silent for a moment before answering, his tone repentant. "Sorry. I just wanted some time to myself for a bit."

I get it, and I don't fault him for it. "It's cool."

"How are you getting home if Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie dropped you off?" Rose questions.

"They took your car in to get new tires, remember? I'm driving your car back."

Her lips purse in thought, but she nods. "Fine. Don't wreck it and fill up the tank."

"Yes Ma'am," he sarcastically drawls. "Anything else?"

"I just worry about you. About all of my family," she whispers.

A beat passes. "I know … but Rosalie, you can't control everything and everyone."

Rose stares off into space, her lips pursed. I don't know what she's thinking, but it doesn't seem like happy thoughts.

There's a few seconds of silence and then shuffling, and muffled voices carry through the phone. Jasper murmurs something before speaking louder. "I gotta go. I'll be home in a few hours. Bye."

Seeing time is getting away from me, I grab my keys and purse, preparing to head out.

"You okay?"

Rose nods once, a jerky movement that doesn't look human. "I'll be fine," she mumbles.

"Okay," I draw out the word, walking backward. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you later. Don't study too hard."

"Where are you going?" my mother questions, walking into the room, my half-asleep father trailing after her, a paper cup clutched tightly in his good hand.

"Port Angeles. I'm getting some art supplies and stuff."

Mom gazes between me and my father, her bottom clenched between her teeth.

"What?"

"I want you to be _very _careful, Bella. Don't go off into parts of the town that seem … isolated."

I chuckle lightly, astonished at Mom's words. I may be a fool at times, but I'm not _that _much of a fool. "I wouldn't do that anyway."

Dad takes a loud gulp of his coffee. "I know that, but don't _follow _anyone into isolated areas either. If something doesn't seem right, call the police, okay? There've been more reports of people disappearing. It's spreading, getting closer to Forks."

A coldness spreads over me, but I push it away. "I have my pepper spray, and I still remember my self-defense moves. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will. You're as tough as nails," my father says, taking another gulp of coffee. "Just be careful anyway. Don't go off on your own, especially in areas you don't know."

"I won't. Promise. You have nothing to worry about."

"Never thought I did. But if I don't at least _try _to warn you and something happens, I'll look bad," Dad teases, kissing the top of my head. "Have fun."

"We'll probably be gone when you get back," Mom informs me, kissing my head as well. "Your dad is pampering me today; he's taking me out to lunch and a walk through the park." Her eyes and smile match her excited tone.

"Sounds fun. Will you be here, Rose?"

"Don't know," she answers, not looking up from her books. "Depends on how this studying goes. I want to run some errands; I'll let you know if I go."

"All righty then. See ya, guys."

"Be back in a couple of hours!" Dad shouts.

I give them a wave from over my shoulder and hop in the truck, heading toward my destination. I make sure to obey the speed limit because the last thing I need is someone reporting back to my father that I'm driving recklessly.

Again.

_I swear, one time I go a few miles over the speed limit and I get caught. Okay, it was nearly forty miles over the speed limit, but still. _

Before heading toward the art store, I make a pit stop at the corner cafe, where Lauren is standing in line. I wait her out, not wanting to deal with her drama and inane insults. Once she's disappeared around the corner, I slip inside and order a tea before rushing back out again. Lauren has a habit of pounding back coffees like they're going to stop making them and I'm in no mood to deal with her.

With my tea in hand, I head to get my art supplies. As I browse the aisles, I pick up the things I need along the way, making a mental list of what I would like to have but I'm not going to buy at the moment. I need something to put on my birthday and Christmas lists.

As I browse, I spot one item that catches my attention immediately. A leather-bound sketchbook with a thin strap that ties all the way around from the back to the front, so it essentially 'locks' the journal. It looks somewhat similar to the one I've seen Edward carry around, but it's a little larger and fatter than his.

Skimming my palms over the cover, I shiver at the cold buttery smoothness of the material, my fingertips tracing the swirls etched in the corners of the book. The sides of it are rough and jagged due to the thick paper it contains. Taking a quick peek inside, I see how it opens fully to lay almost flat, which would be a good thing if someone were to draw a large picture.

Deep down, I know I have to have this, and it's something I'll definitely treasure. I'll use it for doodles and more serious artwork, knowing this book would never leave my sight. However, taking one glimpse at the price tag has my eyes bulging and me gently replacing the sketchbook on the shelf like it's on fire. There's no way I or anyone I know can afford something like this, and to be quite honest, I would never ask someone to pay _this _much for a sketchbook.

Dejected, I pay for my purchases and walk around, window shopping. I make a few lists of things that catch my eye for family members and myself, jotting down the store name as well. I know once it comes time for Christmas shopping, I won't remember where I had seen what, so I make good notes.

In the reflection of the glass at a hippy-esque store that screams my mother, I spot Lauren with a guy who _isn't_ Mike. She's laughing and hanging all over him, obviously not watching where she's going, and she's headed my way.

She bumps into my shoulder, knocking me slightly into the glass, which causes the people inside to turn and stare. After a moment, they resume their previous activities, interruption forgotten.

I'm touched by the care and concern they give, checking to see whether or not I've been injured by some psycho wielding a knife or a gun.

Lauren continues on, still hanging on the guy at her side, oblivious to what she's done. They come to a stop at a building two stores down, which is, unfortunately, the direction I'm headed.

I get closer to them and see the real reason why they're stopped. They're pressed against the brick building, feeling each other up and eating each other's faces. A few people walk by, disgusted much like I am and ushering their kids by quickly, hoping they don't see the obscene display.

Just as I start to move past them, a kid on a skateboard comes flying by, sipping a slushie from an open cup. Unfortunately for him, his skateboard hits an uneven part of the sidewalk, and he falls to his knees, tearing the skin there. His drink is thrown in the air, landing all over Lauren and her new boy toy.

Mostly, it's all over Lauren, soaking her pink top and changing it into a grotesque mauve color. Her hair sticks to her face and neck, globs of the icy drink slithering down her face and onto her chest.

She shrieks, flinging off the offending liquid with flailing hands. The kid responsible tears through the crowd, his laughter roaring over the sounds of traffic. The guy with her muffles his laughter with his fist, but she either ignores him or doesn't hear him.

Lauren's eyes immediately find mine and narrow into slits. With a grunt, she marches toward me and points a finger in my face. I recoil as the slush flies off her and toward me.

"I know you did this, you bitch."

"I can honestly say with sincere disappointment; it wasn't me. But it was funny as hell to watch," I reply with a laugh.

"I _know _it was you."

"It really wasn't."

"Sure," she scoffs. "You're the only one who has it out for me ... and I saw you earlier today, walking around. Since then, everything has gone wrong for me. So, how are you doing it?"

Before I can stop it, a laugh bubbles from my lips. "You're not serious, are you?" Judging by her blank, expectant look, she is serious. "Okay," I draw out, rocking on the heels of my shoes. "Wow. You are giving me way too much credit here."

"I don't think I am. I've had so much go wrong today. First with that drink being tossed all over me," she says, a disgusted expression on her face. "Then my makeup is sold out, and the shirt I really wanted isn't in my size. The only common thing here is _you_. My day was going fine until I saw _you_."

I can't believe she actually thinks I had something to do with anything that's happened to her today. Seeing a golden opportunity, I'm not going to confirm or deny anything. I'll let her _think _I'm responsible. That way, she'll drive herself up the wall trying to figure out what I might do next.

The ultimate revenge without having to do anything. Psychological torture is my favorite kind.

"Yeah," I say, grinning. I walk backward, away from the situation in front of me. "Imagine that. It's almost like you're cursed, huh? Besides you just being … you know, you?"

A strange combination of a grunt and a screech emits from her throat. Her hands ball into fists and she takes one step toward me, but the guy behind her reaches for her, tugging her away.

"Take a pill, Lauren," he mutters, leading her away in the opposite direction.

I roll my eyes at her as she gives me a parting glare and continues on her way. I stop inside a few more shops, buying a few shirts and pants I find on sale. On my way out to put the bags in the truck, I spot Jasper's blond hair across the street, and I start to make my way over but pause when I see his company.

Alice stands in front of him, a small smile on her face as she speaks. Jasper doesn't appear to say anything; he merely stands there, a dubious expression on his face as he listens.

When she's done, he says something in response that causes her face to fall and her shoulders to slump forward. A pained look crosses Jasper's face, and he says something more, which doesn't appear to be good news if the looks on their faces are anything to go by.

I take a step forward, wondering if I should go see if everything is all right, but the decision is made for me a second later. Emmett walks up and speaks to Jasper, who nods and turns to walk away. Alice frowns up at her brother, but nods and looks behind her in the direction of a woman with curly red hair standing ten feet away.

Alice and Emmett hurry toward her, disappearing into the crowd seconds later.

With them gone, I look in the direction where Jasper had gone, hoping I'd still see him nearby. I want to see if he's okay; clearly the conversation he had with her wasn't a good one.

However, I'm disappointed to find he's nowhere in sight.

Oh well. I'll talk to him at home.

My stomach growls and my mouth waters as the rich smell of freshly cooked fries invade my senses from the small, fast food restaurant next door.

Unable to resist, I head inside and quickly eat, depositing my trash in the garbage on my way out, heading to the car.

"Bella?"

Arthur, Lauren's cousin, walks toward me, his eyes lit up behind his glasses. He pushes his hair out of his face, but it's no use; it falls right back, obscuring most of his face.

"Hey! I thought that was you."

"No, it's someone else named Bella, who looks exactly like me."

He laughs. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all. How's your mom?" I ask before the silence can carry on too long.

He looks surprised by my inquiry, but it quickly morphs into a small smile. "Pretty good, thanks. She has her medicine and seems to be doing well after the surgery. Her doctors think she'll be released soon."

"That's good. I hope she'll be okay."

"Me too." He pauses for a moment, swallowing nervously. "Would you like to get a drink or something?"

Someone calls my name before I can answer and I huff, recognizing who it is immediately.

Boy, I'm popular today.

I smile pleasantly at Arthur. "Hold that thought."

Turning, Edward stands a foot away, his eyes boring into mine. The questions from earlier invade my head, and I can't wait to ask them. Unfortunately, it won't be now.

"Edward."

"Do you want to schedule a time to finish the project? I have my half of the presentation done."

"Yeah," I reply, cocking my head to the side as I notice his eyes darting back and forth between Arthur and me. "Just give me a few minutes."

His eyes flash with annoyance. "Fine."

Rolling my eyes, I turn back to Arthur and pull him a couple of steps away when it's obvious Edward isn't going to move.

I glare at him over my shoulder, wondering what the hell his problem is.

"I'm sorry. I forget things sometimes," Arthur says, looking away at a random spot along the street.

I take a moment, wondering what he's alluding to, but I can't think of anything. "What do you mean?"

"Your boyfriend." He nods his head in Edward's direction. "I forgot you were seeing someone."

Vehemently, I shake my head. "He's _not_ my boyfriend."

"Really?" he questions, surprised. "Could have fooled me."

"We're classmates. Trust me; he couldn't care less about what I do."

"I doubt that," he mutters and continues speaking before I can reply. "Can I give you my number then? Perhaps we can meet up for coffee sometime? If you like coffee, I mean. If not, we can have something else … unless you don't want anything to do with me, then I'll leave you alone."

I think about it for a moment before agreeing. Almost instantly, my stomach knots and my hands begin to sweat.

What's wrong with me?

It's not like I haven't dated before. Granted, those _relationships _didn't last very long, but still, it's not as if I have no experience at all. Maybe it's nerves; Arthur is so nice and sweet, the complete opposite of me. I don't want to unintentionally hurt him.

Whatever the reason I feel so off, I push it away, pulling my phone out and hand it to Arthur, taking his phone when he hands me his. Once we're done, I shove my phone back in my bag.

"I'll text you soon, Bella. See you later."

I smile and nod, waving goodbye. Closing my eyes, I take a moment and collect myself, before whirling around and facing Edward.

Startled, I see he's no longer alone.

His mother stands in front of him, a handful of bags at her feet, and a frown on her face as she speaks to her son. Edward stands there, his eyes cast downward, nodding every so often.

I wait patiently, watching with amusement as Edward apparently gets lectured by his mother. After a few minutes, Mrs. Cullen looks over and smiles, seemingly done with her reprimanding.

"Hello, Bella" she greets. "How is your father doing?"

I blink in surprise. "How did you know about his injury?"

"He came into the ER while I was visiting Carlisle for lunch."

Slowly, I nod. "He's fine. A little sore, but he's doing well."

She smiles and sighs in what seems like relief. "Good."

Her cell phone rings from her purse, and she quietly excuses herself, leaving Edward and me alone. "So," he begins, clearing his throat and running a hand through his unruly hair. "From your email, you seem to have a lot done."

"Yeah," I reply and give a quick run-down of everything I've completed.

Once I'm done, he nods. "When do you want to finish it?"

Knowing that going back to his house isn't an option; I go for the obvious choice. "During lunch on Monday."

He nods. "Fine. See you then."

Without another word, he spins around, heading for his mother, but I race in front of him, not quite done with him yet.

"I have another question for you," I state.

A heavy sigh leaves him. "What?"

"Why were you outside of my house?"

Annoyance replaces indifference as he stares at me. "This again? Wow, you think a lot of yourself, don't you? I told you, I have no purpose to be at your house at _any _time of day."

I narrow my eyes and clench my teeth together, the muscles in my neck becoming rigid. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain control of my emotions, but it's not going well. Heat rises from my chest to the crown of my head, fueling the fire.

"You're such an asshole," I hiss. "I _saw _you and newsflash, you all but confessed to being there so tell me _why _you were being such a creeper!"

"What are you talking about?" He asks incredulously. "How did I admit to being there?"

"The other day, you said I hit my head harder than I thought. How did you know I hit my head if you weren't there?" I cross my arms over my chest, flashing him a smug smirk.

"If you remember, I was visiting my father that day. Your doctor's office is connected to my father's. I heard Dr. Gerandy talk about it with a nurse while he was ordering your tests."

His explanation seems a little _obvious. _Sure, he could have overheard Dr. Gerandy talking about me; after all, he _was _in the same area of the hospital. Something about it just seems too off to believe. I doubt the offices are _that _close together back there, but what if they are? I've never been back there, so I wouldn't know.

I keep my gaze on him for a long moment, looking for any sign that he might be lying, but I see none. My smirk fades, and my posture loosens, but I manage to keep my shoulders straight as I continue to look him in the eye.

Had I made a mistake? Did I jump to conclusions?

Everything within me is telling me I didn't, but how can I be sure? There was so much that happened that night, both in reality and in my head. What was real?

There's no proof of him being there, and his explanation is kind of a good one. At least for now, until I look into this matter a little more.

I shift from left to right, crossing my arms over my chest, struggling to keep eye contact.

Clearing my throat, I stand a little taller. "I'm _sorry _for accusing you," I tell him, the apology forced out through thin lips.

His lips twitch with a smirk. I know he's going to gloat about me apologizing to him, and I don't want to hear it.

"Well, this has been _really _fun, but I have to go."

Without another word, I spin around and head to the truck, only stopping when I hear my name called.

Mrs. Cullen stands a few cars over, depositing her purchases in the trunk of her sleek black Mercedes. Walking over, she smiles kindly, though there's a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Is everything all right?"

She turns, finding Edward still standing where I left him, watching us impassively. When he realizes he's been spotted, he turns and disappears into the crowd.

Mrs. Cullen turns back to me, her face expectant.

"Yeah. Everything's fine."

Slowly, she nods but doesn't press. Her eyes drift over my shoulder and light up at what she sees. Belatedly, I realize she must see my bag from the art store.

"Are you an artist?"

"Sort of," I hedge. "I dabble."

She smiles, pressing her hands to her chest. "Well, if you make something, I would love to see it."

A blush heats my cheeks, and I clear my throat, kicking at the concrete with the heel of my shoe. "Maybe someday."

Eagerly, she nods and reaches in her purse, pulling a swatch of paint colors. "Could you give me your opinion for a moment? I'm looking to re-do one of the guest rooms, and I want a nice, soothing color. My kids aren't interested in things like this."

A throat clearing has me turning around, seeing an irate older woman looking at me with a scowl. Her eyes take in my heavy eyeliner and multi-colored hair, distaste prominently on her features. She mutters something under her breath, probably about how wild today's youth is.

I raise an eyebrow. "So sorry, Ma'am" I coo, stepping out of the way.

Humorously, I watch as she pales and scurries away to her car, shuffling past a glaring Esme, following her with her eyes. Once the woman is gone, she huffs, shaking her head.

"Some people. I swear, they have no manners; just because someone is different from what they are, they think they can treat them any way they please!"

I can't help but smile at her rant. "It's okay. I'm used to it."

"It's not okay," she argues vehemently. "There's nothing wrong with you. You look different; so what? It makes you that much more beautiful."

Once more, heat blossoms on my cheeks. Clearing my throat, I thank her, and look through the paint swatches, asking what kind of color theme she's looking for.

She pauses, thoughtful. "I'm not really sure. What colors do you like the most?"

I pick out three colors; navy, mint green, and, dark purple.

I make a mental note of what the purple one is named because I would love to paint my room that color.

She marks the swatches and puts it back in her purse with a thankful smile. "Thank you. You have no idea how much time you saved me!" Glancing at the delicate silver watch on her wrist, she gasps. "Oh dear, I need to run. I need to get home and wrap Carlisle's anniversary present."

"When is your anniversary?"

"Next Thursday," she beams.

"Well, happy early anniversary."

"Thank you." Her arms outstretch toward me, and for a moment, I think she wants to hug me, but instead, she places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing once. "I'll see you soon. Have a good afternoon."

"You too."

She steps away, toward the black Mercedes and Edward walks up then, sliding into the driver's seat with ease. He gives a short but tight smile before focusing on his mother as she gets into the passenger seat. A beat later, he tears out of the parking lot.

I remain rooted in place, shaking my head at his hot and cold behavior.

On my way home, I pass by the movie theater, and my attention is diverted by a sign hanging on the side of the building. There will be a few good movies playing here within the next few weeks, and I make a mental note to ask Jasper or Rose if they want to join me.

The house is noticeably silent when I stroll through the door a short time later. Locking it after me, I spot a note from Rose taped there.

_Bella,_

_I called your phone, but you didn't answer. ANSWER IT NEXT TIME! _

_In case you come back before I do, I've gone out for some air. Not far, just into town to stretch my legs and pick up a few things. Jasper is still out, and Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie went for their date but should be back shortly. He was called in to cover a shift for one of the deputies, so he'll be working the late afternoon/early evening/night shift. Behave, and don't burn the house down, okay? Call if you need me._

_Love you._

I smirk and throw the note away. Like Jasper, she worries too much … but that's Rose for you. Especially after someone in the family gets hurt.

The silence of the house doesn't really appeal to me. I could put on some music to fill the quiet, but that doesn't seem very appealing either. I need _natural _sounds and some fresh air.

I grab my new supplies and my sketchbook that's almost full and leave a note for my parents, telling them I'm taking a walk around our house. I head out on the worn path that leads from our back door to the mass of trees behind our house.

As I walk, all the sounds of the forest come to a standstill. There are no birds squawking, no chattering of squirrels or chipmunks … just complete silence. I pause, my eyes scanning over the trees, wondering if there's something else here with me. I listen carefully like my father always taught me to do, and when I hear nothing, I find a place to sit on a fallen log, making sure I can see the house from where I am.

Suddenly, sounds return; it's almost as if someone turned up the volume. The wings of the birds begin to flap rapidly, and little creatures scurry through the leaves. Even though I'm slightly comforted the forest is alive with sounds once more, there's still a strange feeling bubbling within me. Almost like I'm not alone.

Shrugging it off, I look around for something to draw and find a perfect picture.

A few feet in front of me a rabbit comes out of a small bush, his nose twitching and ears moving every which way. Before I can get my pencil to the paper, out of the corner of my eye I see a dark shape dart behind a tree and rush into a cluster of trees.

Instantly, I'm on my feet, hands up in front of me, defensively, my things dropping onto the ground with barely a sound. Thoughts of strangers roaming around my house surface, and I'm back letting my imagination take control, my mind running rampant with possibilities of what they could want and none of them are good.

Even if this is some kid from town, trying to see how much damage they can do before the chief catches them, I'll be ready for them too. Last time, my bench swing in the backyard had been broken into pieces, and I was pissed off like a wet cat. I'm not about to let these jerks do any more damage to my house.

For a fleeting second, my mind recalls those missing hikers, but I don't make any move to run away. My father has taught me to fight well.

"This is private property, asshole. Did you not see the signs?"

I get no response, and I shake my head, grumbling under my breath. I take a few steps backward, stepping further into the wide expanse of the backyard.

Looking over next door, I silently wish for the neighbor's dog to come out. At least she'll make more noise than I ever could. However, she remains inside, most likely sleeping the day away.

A muted thump and the crunching of leaves has me taking a big step backward, scanning over the woods slowly. Soft footfalls, more crunching of leaves and the snapping of twigs from my left gathers my attention. Through the trees, I notice two people running about twenty feet away. I can't make out any of their features, but thanks to a patch of sunlight streaming through the trees, I think I see a flash of blond hair on the taller figure and black hair on the shorter one.

Is that … Alice and Carlisle? That can't be them … can it?

I try to see where they went, but they're too far gone now, and I'm _not _going that far into the woods. Swallowing thickly, I snatch my supplies from the ground and race back inside of my house.

Dad's voice filters from the kitchen as he quietly converses with my mother, the tone distressed and angry, which isn't a good combination.

"What's going on?" I ask, coming into the room.

Dad glances at me with a forced smile. "Hey. Where were you?"

I start to answer, but I catch a glimpse of the paper in Dad's hands and gasp. He's holding a missing person's report, and the picture prominently displays Kevin's face.

How is that possible? I just saw him at his store a couple of weeks ago … and no one at the store today even looked like something was wrong.

"Kevin is missing?"

Dad nods, knowing my connection with him. He hasn't had much interaction with the man, but they were friendly toward one another. "Disappeared late last week."

"Is it the same person who took everyone else?"

"We're not sure. We're looking into it."

I sit down at the table, listening to Dad's words repeat over in my head. I can only hope Kevin is found safe and sound, drunk off his ass somewhere instead of something more sinister.

"Bella?"

"Yeah," I reply, barely registering Dad's tone.

"Where were you?"

My attention turns to him. "Outside, drawing. I think I saw … I think Alice and Carlisle were in the woods."

"I thought I told you to stay out of there," my father says, his voice stern as he straightens his shoulders. "I told you those people were missing."

"I didn't go in far. I could see the house from where—"

"Semantics, Bella. These woods practically go around the entire town. _Stay out of them_."

"I'm sorry," I apologize, my face heating from the reprimand.

"You're forgiven. Just don't do it again."

I nod and wait a moment. "Are you going to warn the Cullen's about the woods too?"

"I have," he says. "But I can't control people. Besides, Carlisle and Esme know what they're doing; they wouldn't put their family at risk."

I relent, knowing the truth in his words. Plus, The Cullens, even though most of them are the sweetest people in the world, have a very 'don't screw with me' air about them. I doubt anyone would try anything with them.

"Don't you think it's weird they were so far from the trails, though? I mean, they ended up _here. _The trails are quite a ways from our house."

He shakes his head dismissively. "It's not so weird. It's easy to get lost in those woods, especially when you're new to the area. They probably saw the light through the trees and thought they were on the other side. They just got turned around. It's happened before."

"Have you … noticed anything weird about them?"

Dad gives me a curious look. "No. I mean sure, they've got their quirks; everyone does. But they're good, respectable people, Bella. That's all that matters, don't you think?"

I nod in agreement. The Cullens _are _good people, and Alice is proving to be a great friend.

Not willing to allow silence to linger, my mom swoops in and starts a new conversation.

"It's been so long since you've focused on your art, baby. Will you show it to me when you're finished?"

"It's just random stuff, Mom. Nothing important."

"It's important if it matters to you. Besides, you could give me a paper full of scribbles, and I would love to see it."

"You're biased."

"Maybe a little," she says with a wink.

I laugh, shaking my head. "I might show them to you. I'm not sure yet. I have to see how they turn out."

Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth. "I'll never see them, then," she tells me dramatically.

Cracking a smile, I shake my head with a sigh. She's not entirely wrong; I can never perfect them to my liking.

"You know," Mom continues, "you could always take them to the art exhibit in Port Angeles. I know your works would be well received."

I do a combination of a shrug and shake my head. She's been telling me this for years, ever since she happened upon one of my drawings. "Maybe."

Rising from the table, I tell my parents I'm heading to my room, but Dad's voice calls me back.

"Remember what I said about the woods, okay? Stay out of them. I'm posting warning signs around town tomorrow, and that goes for you especially."

"I promise. But, Dad, I can take care of—"

"Listen to your father, Bella," my mother interrupts firmly.

"I know you can take of yourself," Dad says. "I taught you well. But you're also _my _kid and being stubborn runs in the family. For my peace of mind and your mother's, stay out for the time being, okay? Just until this case is resolved."

Their faces are serious and patient as they wait for me to respond. I give them my promise about staying out of the woods and relief floods over their faces. That same sinking feeling in my belly I had when I first heard the news of the disappearances rises again; Dad has never been this insistent about something before. He's been stressed and worried over a few random crimes, but he's never hounded us like he's been doing. Something tells me this matter of missing hikers is more serious than he's letting on, and it might get worse before it gets better.

* * *

**So, Edward seems to have gotten away with his mistake ... for now. ;) **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to all of you who reads and reviews! It means a lot.  
**

**Fran, thank you for beta'ing and Mr G and Me and Monica03, thank you for pre-reading. You're the best! (Any mistakes you see are my own.) **

***Just a warning: there is a brief allusion to suicide in this chapter. Please read with the bathroom scene with caution.***

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

I'm incredibly bored.

I finished reading the newest horror novel I bought, and none of my old ones are calling to me. Television is a bust; none of the good movies or television shows are on, which pisses me off. Usually, there's a re-run of _Supernatural _on somewhere, but not tonight.

My parents left for a date night, leaving us kids to fend for ourselves for dinner. Not that it was a bad thing. It gave Rose and me free reign in the kitchen to make our own pizzas. Rose balked at my ham, pineapple, mushroom, and green pepper pizza while I criticized hers; how she can eat anchovies on a pizza is beyond me.

So disgusting.

Instead of joining us, Jasper quickly made himself a sandwich and high-tailed it back to his room, where he's been holed up for the last day and a half. He's avoided everyone in the house, only opening the door a sliver to assure Mom and Dad he's okay.

Rose and I ate in silence. I watched as she chewed slowly, lost in thought. I tried to engage her in conversation multiple times, but when she agreed it was a good idea to offer myself up as a sacrifice to a cult, I stopped talking and escaped to do my own thing.

Which lead me here.

Bored, with nothing to do.

Deciding music always soothes every mood, I head upstairs to grab my iPod. Behind the door, there's a muted thump that has me throwing it open as I gaze from corner to corner.

There's nothing, so I figure it must be the house settling, or I'm imagining things.

Which, according to Edward, is actually what happened when I_ saw_ him.

Honestly, I'm torn over the entire situation. On one hand, I feel deep in my gut that I'm not wrong; I _know _what I saw. On the other, doubt circles those thoughts like a shark ready to attack.

According to Dad, the back room of the doctor's office _is _connected by one long hallway. Supposedly, it makes moving about easier for the doctors, nurses, and patients who have to have multiple tests done, effectively killing my theories.

I guess I am bat-shit crazy then.

Shrugging off those thoughts for another time, I snatch my player from the nightstand and press the button to turn it on, but all see is a black screen.

Plugging it into my computer, I see the battery icon light up and flash, signaling the device is being charged.

"What the hell," I mumble to myself. I had charged this last night. Did I leave it on and didn't realize?

Outside, a loud, ferocious bark fills the air, intermixed with snarling growls. Running for the window, I peer outside to see what's going on.

The Stephens' dog, Daisy, stands stiff and as close to the fence as she can; her ears lay flat against her head, and her body is rigid as she barks and growls at something straight ahead.

Unable to see whatever she's looking at from this vantage point, I go downstairs and out the back door, being sure not to make a lot of noise.

As I near the fence, Daisy releases one last bark and growl combination before trotting over to me with a slight whine, sticking her nose through the small opening in the chain-link fence. "Hey, Daisy. How are you, girl? " I say rubbing her nose lightly. Her small tail wags as her mouth opens, her tongue lolling out the side.

With the way she tries to jump over the fence, I have a feeling she's been left alone for too long, starving for attention.

I glare at the Stephens' house, silently cursing them to hell.

I swear if they don't take this animal inside, I'm going to steal it and keep it for myself. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind.

"Hey, sweets. Is there something in there pissing you off, huh?" Daisy's entire body shakes as her tail wags. "Bite 'em in the ass; right in the rear. Make them think twice about coming onto this property. Yeah." I maneuver my finger so I can reach her chin, laughing lightly as her back leg rises to scratch at her stomach.

After giving her some attention for a few minutes, I straighten and send one more glare to the house next door.

"Keep Daisy inside, or I'll call my father!" I shout at the house before heading inside, almost running into Jasper as he exits his room. He stares at me for a moment, his face pinched and his eyes pained before turning around to head back in his room, slamming the door.

Having enough of this behavior, I march up to the door and pound on the surface. "Jasper, open up. You can't avoid for me forever!"

There's a beat of silence before I hear his muffled reply. "I don't want to talk right now."

Heavily, I sigh and scowl as I pound my fist against the surface once more. "It's behavior like this that's going to get you titled as a weird recluse. No one will want to talk to you, and then you'll end with fifty weird and obscure pets in a rundown, grungy house that none of your family will visit. Your house will become the one everyone avoids and kids will make up stories about how haunted it is and how many people you killed; do you want that reputation? Because _this _is how it starts."

I don't get a response, not that I expected to. When Jasper doesn't want to talk, he won't. It's admirable and very frustrating.

Rose comes downs the stairs, meeting me halfway. Her hair is slightly curly and frizzy like she's been sleeping, but her face looks too bright to have just woken up.

"What was the yelling and slamming doors about?"

"Uh, I was telling the neighbors to take their dog inside." She frowns at this but doesn't comment. Her thoughts on that poor dog are the same as mine. "And I was trying to get Jasper to talk to me."

Her eyes look over my shoulder in the direction of Jasper's door; her lips pulled into a frown as she thinks. After a moment, she shakes her head, her attention back to me. "Something's bothering him, but he won't talk to me. It'll be fine, though. He needs to sort out his thoughts before he tells us. You know how he is."

This is true; Jasper has never been one to blurt out things. He takes his time, assesses whatever is bothering him, and _then_ he talks about it. It's never gone on for this long, however. Normally, if something bothers him for more than a day, he comes to Rose and me.

Outside, Daisy barks again. It doesn't last as long as before, but that's beside the point. I feel bad for the poor thing, always outside with no one to spend time with. Vaguely, I wonder if I can get away with stealing her, but Rose seems to catch on to my thought process.

"Uncle Charlie is the Chief of Police. It won't be good for him or us if you steal Daisy."

"Pfft." I wave a dismissive hand. "Please. They wouldn't miss her, and besides who's going to suspect us?"

She looks at me like I'm daft. "You don't think they'd recognize their own dog?"

"I doubt it; hide her in plain sight. It's part of my plan."

Rose waves her hands in the air as she walks away. "I know nothing."

"That's right! You know nothing!"

Her laughter drifts down the stairs as she heads to her room. If she thinks I'm joking, she has another thing coming. But first, I have other things to focus on.

Like dealing with Edward on Monday.

Oh, joy.

8*8*8*8*8*8

On Monday, Edward isn't in any of our morning classes.

It's a relief because I'm sure he would love to gloat about how wrong I was in my accusations against him. I'm still a little suspicious of the explanation he gave me, but I'm trying to let it go.

I just hope he shows up tomorrow.

In the cafeteria, I find Alice sitting at our table, her bright gold eyes easy to spot anywhere amongst the drab and neutral colors of the room. She waves at me, a little too enthusiastically, and I head over, chuckling under my breath.

I couldn't miss her, even if I tried.

At the table, I notice two lunch trays; one in front of Alice and one next to her. I level her with a hard look, pointedly looking at the tray and back to her.

Playfully, she rolls her eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "Just eat it."

"Is it poisoned?" I sarcastically question.

"Damn it! Who told you?" she asks in mock outrage.

We both laugh, but hers ends in a huff as I shove money into her hand. She says nothing, but she _does _stick her tongue in my direction, as she shoves the bills into her pocket.

"You look better," I remark after a few moments.

"What do you mean?" Her eyebrows furrow as she stabs at what is supposed to be meatloaf, moving the pieces around on her tray.

"I mean," I clarify, swallowing the bite I'd just taken. "Your eyes look brighter."

Alice says nothing; she merely smiles, her glance darting to something over my shoulder.

Whirling around, I see Edward standing there, his face void of any emotion.

I'm in awe and a little freaked out on how he can accomplish that.

"He shows," I say sarcastically, a little more than surprised at his sudden reappearance.

He clears his throat again. "Yeah."

Like his sister, his eyes are a light butterscotch, and the skin underneath is almost as pale as the rest of his face. In fact, they look lighter than they did in Port Angeles.

"What?" he questions, his tone sharp. I ignore it.

"Nothing," I reply, staring at his eyes.

Edward swallows, his jaw clenching as he shifts to the left, concentrating on the plastic table. In his hands is a laptop and textbook with loose-leaf notebook paper sticking out of it. "Are you ready to complete this?"

I nod, taking a few more bites before giving Alice an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I have to go."

"No," Edward interjects abruptly, startling me.

Jerking my head around to him, I look at him with wide eyes.

"I mean, there's no need. You need to eat lunch; we can work here; the table is plenty big enough. Alice, do you mind?"

"Not at all."

"Okay," I reply slowly. I watch him as I lower myself back down, wondering what is going on. His behavior just goes from one extreme to the other. It can't be normal.

As Edward goes about setting up the laptop and organizing his papers, I ready my work for him to look at, spotting Alice observing us with a small smile and a glint in her eye.

When I raise an eyebrow in her direction, her grin grows, and she shrugs a shoulder, looking down at her tray, still amused. I look from her to Edward, who is studiously ignoring us, though I do see him periodically look over at his sister in annoyance.

Edward catches me staring and clears his throat, gently taking the papers from my hands. After a moment, he nods, handing me his outline. I look it over quickly, thoroughly impressed over the detail and the depth of ideas he has for the project.

Shifting in his chair, he focuses on the computer screen, opening the program to make the mock presentation we're giving load.

The time passes quickly, as we discuss the presentation throughout, merging our ideas and calling out new ones when inspiration strikes. By the time the bell rings signaling the end of lunch, I jump in surprise.

"Wow. That went by fast," I remark, astonished.

"You're really unobservant at times."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I just get … involved when I'm working on something. I don't half-ass it."

"Work on that," he says, typing something into the computer before closing it with a firm _click _as he stands. "Being unaware will just get you into trouble."

"Why do you think I'll get into trouble?"

"Isn't that your middle name?"

"It's Marie, actually."

He smirks with a light chuckle, shaking his head. "I sent you a copy of the presentation. Look it over and make any changes you think are necessary with the editing tool; I sent the paper again, as well. I made some changes."

Nodding to his sister, and without another to me, he strolls away.

I stick my tongue out at his back, and Alice erupts in loud laughter, covering her mouth with both of her hands. She peers over at me, eyes twinkling.

I'm glad to know she's okay with the way her brother and I talk to one another.

"Does he _have _manners?" I ask Alice once she's somewhat calmed.

She snickers, tossing an apple between her hands before dropping it in her bag. "He does. Actually, most of the time he's very prim and proper," she says, arching her back and sticking her nose in the air. "I think you've really gotten under his skin for more than one reason. He's never met anyone who stands up to him the way you do. He doesn't know how to act."

"For starters, he can start speaking to me like a human being," I grumble rising from my seat.

Suddenly, Alice gasps, and I look over, concerned. She has a vacant, distant look on her face, her eyes far away and containing that strange milky appearance. It's the exact look she had when she had her last bad headache.

She sits unnaturally still, appearing not even to breathe. Her body stiff, her lips parted in a silent gasp that makes her look like a terrified statue. I swallow thickly, wondering what could cause her to look like this.

"Alice?" I get no response, so I wave my hand in front of her eyes, hoping to snap her out of the trance she's suddenly fallen into. "Alice?" Again, no response. Snapping my fingers has little effect either. Honestly, I'm starting to get a little freaked out and that only increases when she starts to shake her head, the speed of it increasing with each second.

Looking around the emptying room, I hope to spot Edward or Emmett, but they're nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, Alice's arm shoots out and knocks over the small container of juice, dousing my pants. Alice gasps and looks up at me, seemingly back to the world of the living, but the look in her eyes is pure fright and sadness.

"Go clean that up in the bathroom," she tells me, her voice dripping with urgency.

"I'll be fine. Are _you _okay? Did you get another headache? Do you need me to get Edward or Emmett?"

"You need to go. Now." Without waiting for a reply, she grips my arm and pushes me.

I stumble, but catch myself just before I fall. I look at her, astonished she would do such a thing, but she meets my gaze with wide eyes, slight panic swimming below the surface.

"What the hell, Alice?"

"Go, before that stains. Please."

I stare at her, puzzled. Why does she care so much whether or not my pants stain? The pleading look in her eyes tells me this is about a lot more than a ruined garment, but what else can it be? Nothing I can think of, that's for damn sure.

"Fine. I'll see you later. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Go!"

Shaking my head, I go to the nearest bathroom, hearing shouting and crying come from within.

Rushing inside, I see Lauren with a taunting smile, standing over a crying Jess, who is huddled in the corner, her hands covering her head in a protective gesture.

Heat fills my face and chest; my hands form into fists at my sides, ready to punch that grin right off her face. With Jess so close, however, I know it's not a good decision. I don't want her to get hurt.

"I'm surprised you'd be in here, Lauren. Won't you melt if water touches you?" I mean for the words to be taunting, but they come out hard, through tight lips.

She spins around; shock etched on her face. "What are you doing here, freak?"

"Going to the bathroom," I reply, waving around.

She scowls. "Whatever. I hope you drown."

I force out a chuckle. "Really? And have me turn into a ghost? Then I'd have nothing to do but torment you."

"Ugh. You should shut your mouth."

"And you should do the world a favor and replace your lipstick with a glue stick."

Lauren's face scrunches up in confusion, and I almost choke on my repressed laughter. She releases a scream under her breath, reminding me of a tea kettle, and steps in my face.

"Get out of my face," I say lowly. "It'd be a shame if something bad happened to you after everything else that's happened."

"What are you talking about? Nothing bad has happened recently."

I plaster an innocent expression on my face. "Really? Huh. That's weird."

She stares for a moment before she pales and backs away slowly, scurries away. Once she's gone, I rush toward Jess, who is crying into her knees.

"Jess, look at me."

She shakes her head, gasping heavily.

"Jess, come on." Gently, I coax her head up and gasp, seeing blood gushing from her nose, down her chin, and onto her shirt. "She hit you?"

"I-it wa-was an ac-accident," she rushes to say when I start to get up and go after Lauren.

I shake my head, pissed off beyond belief. I barely manage to take a step before Jess grabs my wrist tightly, shaking her head with tear-filled eyes. "Pl-please, Bel-bella. Do-don't."

"This wasn't an accident, Jess."

"It wa-was. Sh-she di-didn't s-see I-I wa-was be-behind th-the do-door."

How could she possibly think it was an accident? After every push, every shove and every bruise she's given her, how on earth could she think anything Lauren does is an accident? Looking into her teary eyes, I see for a fact, she does actually believe it.

I sigh heavily, shaking my head. "Jess, you and I both know nothing she does is an accident."

"It-it's eas-easier th-this wa-way. T-to ig-ignore."

As the last word leaves her lips, the door opens, and Angela Webber comes in, gasping at the sight of Jess's face.

"What happened?"

"Lauren," I answer flatly.

Surprisingly, Angela mutters a curse through clenched teeth and immediately blushes scarlet, but shrugs her shoulders, unashamed, grinning along with me.

I wish I could spend more time with Angela; she's a pretty cool girl. She's kind and wickedly smart, which only makes sense, considering she's in advanced classes and is graduating in January with Rose. With her extra class load, helping her parents take care of her infant twin brothers, volunteering at her father's church and hanging out with her boyfriend, her time is spread pretty thin.

With Angela whispering reassurances, I rise and wet a paper towel, gently cleaning away the blood. Jess's eyes focus on a random spot on Angela's shoulder, wincing as I hit a particularly delicate area.

Once a majority of the blood is cleared, I see why; there's a nasty black and blue bruise already forming on her skin, blooming upward toward her eyes.

"You'll need to see a doctor," I murmur to her. "This bruise is bad."

She nods, and I continue wiping away the blood as much as I can without hurting her.

Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about the blood on her shirt, but at least I was able to do _something._

"You can't ignore her forever. She's only going to get worse as time goes on," I tell Jess when she gives no sign she's going to move or talk.

Angela nods in agreement next to me. "She's right, Jessica. Lauren … she's just going to keep at this because she knows you won't say anything. You have to stand up to her."

"It-it's n-not wo-worth it. I-I'm n-not wo-worth i-it."

"Of course you are! You are ten times better than she'll ever be," Angela argues vehemently.

"I-I'm n-not! Lo-look a-at m-me! I ca-can't sp-speak wi-without stut-stuttering."

"That doesn't make you any less of a person or any less than Angela or me," I counter. "It also doesn't give Lauren the right to pick on you."

"I ju-just do-don't s-see th-the po-point."

Angela reaches forward, grasping her hand tightly. "The point is showing her that you won't back down, that you won't let her stand over you anymore. You have to be strong. You have to show her you're not going to put up with this type of treatment from her anymore."

"She's right," I cut in. "Stutters can go away. Bitches don't. You have to do something."

"N-no!" Jess cries, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks. "I-I'm ti-tired o-of i-it a-all! S-so ti-tired. I do-don't wa-want to fi-fight. I ju-just wa-want to g-go a-away. I do-don't wa-want t-to d-do th-this an-anym-more."

Angela and I exchange worried looks before returning our attention back to Jess, who continues to cry softly.

"What are you talking about, Jess?" I ask. Jess doesn't look at me. Instead, she shrugs her shoulders, staring at her cuticles.

I place my hand over hers, making her look up at me.

"What are you talking about? Talk to me. I'm here. I'm listening. _We're _listening," I say, pointing between Angela and me.

Jess's eyes water and the tears spill over as she lets everything out.

"I-I do-don't wa-want t-to d-do thi-this an-anym-more! I-I'm t-t-tired of st-stut-stuttering a-and b-being pi-picked o-on."

Jess sobs again, her heartbreaking cries echoing off the tiles. Each whimper that leaves her stabs me right through my heart. My own eyes burn with the threat of tears, but I blink them back, needing to be strong for her.

Angela has pulled her into her arms, hugging her and rocking them both from side to side. I grab ahold of Jess's hand, squeezing tightly, offering as much support as I can give right now.

"Jessica, doing anything besides standing up to Lauren, telling someone about what she's done to you, won't solve that. It will only cause problems and hurt the people who love you," Angela says softly.

"She's right," I add. "Trust me. I know it's hard being different."

"B-but i-it do-doesn't se-seem t-to b-bother y-you."

"Not all the time. Sometimes, it does though. Every now and then I feel lonely and like an outcast," I admit. "When I first decided to change my hair and dress the way I wanted to, I had a hard time. I was hurt, upset and sad from the way people treated me. They called me names, tripped me and even hit me. I got tired of it, though. I got tired of being their punching bag and allowing them to make me feel bad. I was happy, and just because I was different didn't give them the right to bully me … just like it doesn't give anyone the right to bully you. _Fight _Jess. Fight Lauren and her evil words. Fight the feelings she's made you feel all these years, because, despite everything she's done, she's the one who's not worth anything, not if she has to hurt people to feel better about herself. She's not as special as she thinks she is. _You _are. _You _are the one who's special. _You _are the one who Angela and I call a friend."

Jessica sighs harshly, looking down, hiccupping every now and then. "S-so wha-what d-do I d-do?"

"You tell someone about what she's been doing. You talk to your parents about how you're feeling and let them help you. You let the people who really care and love you, help you," I answer, squeezing her hands.

"La-Lauren wo-won't ge-get i-in tr-trouble. Sh-she ne-never do-does."

"If she doesn't, then at least you did _something. _At least you said _something. _Besides, I know a lot of complaints have been filed against her, so people _will_ believe you," Angela says. If anyone would know, it's her. She works in the main office as an office aide for Mrs. Cope, so she probably knows all the dirty secrets of most students here.

"B-but wha-what i-if sh-she co-comes af-after m-me?"

"Then I'll protect you," I reply easily. "She's scared of me; you know this. Besides, she's going to be a little extra cautious around me. I'm screwing with her head. It's fabulous."

Angela and Jess laugh lightly before they fall into silence, allowing time to think. The only sound in the room is our breathing and the occasional groaning from the old pipes. I sincerely hope Jessica will stand up for herself and report Lauren's behavior. It's gone on for too long and needs to end. Now.

After a few minutes of silence, Jessica nods, telling us she'll go to the principal. Angela and I both smile at her and help her to her feet.

"You're going to talk to your parents too, right? And of course, you can always talk to Bella and me."

Jessica looks between Angela and me, smiling when we both nod firmly.

"Y-yes. To-tonight, I-I'll ta-talk t-to m-my pa-parents."

"Good," I reply. "Now, let's go to the principal, hmm?"

Jessica nods, drawing in a shaky breath and stepping forward, walking out into the hall. Angela and I follow behind her as she walks, slow but determined, toward the main office. Ben comes after us, shooting a concerned look toward Jess, quietly asking Angela why she wasn't in last period.

In a hushed voice, Angela rushes through what occurred, and when he responds, his gruff voice says that he, too, is upset by Lauren's behavior.

We enter the office and Mrs. Cope smiles, but it quickly falls when she sees Jessica's red-rimmed eyes, bruised face and the residue of blood on her clothes. She rushes around to our side of the desk, pulling her into a protective hug.

"Oh my. What on earth happened, dear?"

"I-I wo-would li-like t-to sp-speak t-to th-the prin-principal, pl-please."

Mrs. Cope smiles softly, and there's something in her expression that shows pride. "Right away." She picks up the phone and talks quietly into the receiver before hanging up and telling Jessica she can go on back.

Before she does, however, Jessica turns to us. "Th-thank y-you."

"Thanking us is not necessary. It's what friends do."

I nod in agreement. Jessica smiles and heads into the principal's office.

"I take it you all skipped last period?" Mrs. Cope questions.

"Just Bella and me," Angela answers.

"No problem. I'll talk to your teachers, but now you need to head to your next class. Don't worry about Jessica. I'll take care of her."

Leaving Jessica in Mrs. Cope's capable hands, we say goodbye and head toward our respective classes. Before I turn the corner, Mike's voice slows my steps. Since he and Lauren are attached to the hip—while they're at school, anyway—I have to wonder if knows about Lauren's stunt with Jessica today? If he did, there will be hell to pay.

He doesn't mention Jessica at all. In fact, his topic of choice is me.

"Hey, Edward. It's good to see you, man!" he greets like the pair are best friends. I roll my eyes and start to turn the corner, but his next sentence causes me to pause. "Has that freak, Bella … you know … tried anything? I hear she's into some pretty wicked shit. Sacrifices and such. Plus, she talks to herself. It's kind of weird."

I roll my eyes once more. Jeez, these people will believe anything and run with it. Do they not know a joke when they see one?

Obviously not.

"Everything is fine; I assure you."

Why is he so formal? I thought I was the strange one in this school … I'm not sure I like the competition.

"Really? If I were you, I would back away now. You can work with me on the project. Just leave her to do the work. She deserves it."

"I won't do that."

"You should. She's dangerous and might kill you."

I scoff lightly. Between Edward and me, if anyone is going to kill someone, it'll be him. Although, if he continues to treat me like I'm a bug in his food, there could be a problem.

"I think I'll take my chances." Edward's voice is hard, angry. A tone I'm _very _familiar with. "If you'll excuse me."

"Although," Mike continues thoughtfully like Edward hadn't dismissed him, "I hear crazy chicks like her are awesome in bed. The things they can do, I bet …" He slows off into a mumble, his face taking on a dream-like quality.

There's no question as to what he's thinking, and it disgusts me. I shiver and have to hold back the vomit bubbling up into my throat.

I guess what they say about guys is true; no matter if someone hates them to the core or scares the crap out of them, guys will sleep with any willing female.

Edward slams his palm against the wall, the sound echoing throughout the empty hall. I duck around the corner once more before slowly peeking back out at the scene unfolding a few feet ahead of me.

Standing silent with a glower on his face, Edward stands in front of Mike, who stares back at him frightfully. One of Mike's legs crosses in front of the other, and I have a feeling he's a second away from peeing his pants.

Cursing inwardly, I wish I had my phone with me to take pictures because this shit is epic!

"Don't ever say anything like that about her again, do you understand me? _Never _speak that way about her." He pauses, taking in a deep breath while my eyes grow as big as saucers.

Did he ... did he really just defend me?

"Hey," Mike says, hands raised. When Edward backs away, Mike takes five giant steps backward. "It's all good. I wasn't serious anyway. Geez, lighten up."

Mike walks away and tries to give off a confident air, but his hurried steps tell another story. I remain where I am for a beat longer, observing Edward.

He's still standing in the same spot, his fists clenched at his sides. His head starts to turn in my direction, and I jump back behind the wall, hoping he didn't see me. I listen carefully, poised to run if I need to, but a second later, I hear his footsteps retreat before fading in the opposite direction.

With a sigh of relief, I head to my next class, Lauren's voice filtering out into the hall. I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to march in there and throat punch her for what she did to Jess, but I need to stay out of it.

I remind myself that Jess is taking care of the situation and I need to leave it at that.

The next words out of her mouth throw my reasoning out of the window.

"... maybe she'll listen to me and actually do the world a favor and disappear," she cackles.

Spinning around, I slam one hand on her desk and the other on her chair, making her jump. She swallows thickly when she finds me standing over her; my eyes narrowed into slits.

"You're pathetic; you know that, right? Bullying people to make yourself look better? Well, keep laughing, chuckles. One day, you'll get what's coming to you."

She shrugs a single shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant, but her refusal to look me in the eye tells me everything. She's scared.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

"I'm not scared of you."

"If you have just a _thimble_ of intelligence … you should be. You think you're untouchable? Let me tell you something; you're not. You think you can get away with what you've done? You can't. You think someone will protect you? Mmm … they won't. All of these _friends _you have are only hanging around because of what you can do for them. They don't give two shits about you."

She scoffs, brushing her hair over her shoulder, casting a look at some of the "friends" in question. "Yeah, right. They love me. I'm the best friend they'll ever have. They'll do anything for me."

Lauren doesn't see it, but her _friends _look away as she says this, silently negating her words.

A short, bitter laugh escapes me. "Really? I can guarantee they will be the _first _to throw you under the bus when a better opportunity comes along. Then where you will be, huh? The lonely woman in the diner, watching everyone else live a full, happy life while you're there, alone. Then you'll grow into a bitter person, trying to relive the glory days of high school, talking trash about anyone and everyone so that you can have fake-ass friends who will turn on you when it suits them."

I pause, watching as Lauren looks around, her _friends _not meeting her eyes. She swallows thickly and shrugs, looking toward me, but not at me.

"You won't get away with what you did to Jess, and if you _ever _come near her or anyone else, you'll think hell is an amusement park. Do not fucking test me."

She swallows audibly, her face pale underneath her makeup. A strangled laugh leaves her as she looks around, noting that the majority of people around us are either ignoring the situation or laughing at her.

"Is there a problem here?" The teacher asks from behind me.

"No," I answer, my voice sounding before Lauren can say anything. "Just having a quick word with Lauren."

"Mm-hm. Well, take your seat, Miss Swan; class is starting."

I give her one last withering glare before pushing myself away from her desk and heading to my own. I catch Edward's thoughtful gaze, but once he sees me looking, he looks away.

When class is over, Alice steps up to me, her eyes wide and anxious. Edward passes by us, looking at me briefly before turning his attention to his sister. They share a look and nod before he departs.

Something is familiar about the way they exchange looks; it almost reminds me of Rose and Jasper. At times, they can seemingly speak without words and know what the other is thinking with just a glance.

I had mentioned it to Mom once, and she just laughed it off, saying it was a twin thing. Later, after a few documentaries about twins, I realized she was right — a lot of what the programs presented I had seen myself with Rose and Jasper.

However, Edward and Alice aren't twins, so why they have those same attributes?

"What? Is everything okay?" Alice questions, seeing my puzzled expression.

"Yeah. It's just … you and Edward … sometimes it looks like you're speaking without saying anything."

Alice stares, unblinkingly, and shrugs a shoulder. "Edward and I have always been close. We're not that far apart in age. We've just always had a connection."

I nod in understanding and shift, remembering how odd it is to see her outside of my classroom. Before I can ask, she asks a question of her own.

"How's Jessica?"

"She's okay for now. She has a nasty bruise, and she's not … feeling like herself," I hedge, not wanting to spill Jess's secrets. "She's going to talk to the principal and her parents about how she's been feeling and what's been going on. Hopefully, she'll be okay."

She nods firmly. "She will be now."

Alice sounds so confident, and it takes a moment for my brain to catch up with the conversation. How did she know about Jess? And how is she so confident Jess will be okay? Right now, things are on shaky ground, and it's impossible to tell how they will turn out. Of course, I want my friend to be okay, but things are very iffy at the moment. I just hope she'll actually talk to her parents instead of brushing it off; however, I have a feeling she will. Her parents attend Angela's church, and if Jess doesn't say something, I know Angela _will. _

Not to mention, I won't keep quiet about this either. I won't let Jess suffer this way.

"How did you know about Jessica?"

There's a slight pause as her mouth drops slightly and her eyes widen. A second later and the worry clears with a small smile. "I saw you with Jessica in the office when I passed by. She looked rough. Plus, she wasn't in my class, so I figured it was something serious."

She stares at me head on, almost like she's daring to me refute her claims. I keep my gaze on her, looking for any wavering, but there's none—just determination and something else I can't place.

After a moment, I nod, accepting her words and turning to head to my locker, but I stop short, my heart jumping into my throat.

"You need a bell," I mumble through gritted teeth.

My eyes are narrowed on Edward's form, but he's not paying attention to me; his scowl and his focuses on his sister, who matches his fierce look with one of her own.

The tension in the air is thick as the pair stares at each other. Not wanting to be a part of this, I step backward.

"Okay, I'm gonna go now."

Alice nods once but doesn't further acknowledge my words. Just before I walk away, I spare a glance at Edward, who meets my gaze for a split moment before looking back to his sister.

Once I turn the corner, Edward hisses something unintelligible.

"Oh lighten up," Alice chides. "I didn't do anything."

"You're doing _something, _Alice. You need to be careful!"

"I had to do it! You have no idea—"

"I know," he interrupts with a heavy sigh. "I know. But it's still too dangerous. You're too close. You need to—"

This time, it's Alice who interrupts. "Please," she scoffs. "Just because you're in denial doesn't mean I shouldn't have friends."

"I'm not in denial."

"Yeah, you are. I may not know everything in regards to _this _situation, but I have two eyes, and I know _you. _I know you—"

"Alice, stop." He breaks off with a heavy sigh, and there's a short silence before he speaks again. "I don't want to hear any more of this conversation. I don't like her, and that's never going to change."

Sensing the conversation is coming to an end, I scurry away, a small feeling of guilt settling in my gut. I shouldn't have eavesdropped; I know this, but I have a feeling it was about me. Why else would Edward tell her she's too close? Who else would he feel so strongly about?

He only seems to have a strong dislike toward me, and apparently, they've had this discussion before. Obviously, Edward isn't going to be nice to me out of the goodness of his heart or because his sister asked him to.

That's fine. At least he won't be fake like so many other people in the world. I admire that about him.

In the locker room, I stash my books and quickly change. As I do so, I overhear some girls talking and pause.

"Did you see Lauren and Royce? He seemed _pissed._"

"Who cares about that?! Did you see Lauren's face when Coach Clapp told her Principal Greene called her into his office?" Some girl guffaws. "I wish I had a camera. She looked batshit scared."

"I heard she's already had numerous warnings from the principal," another girl chimes in, their voices fading as they leave. "I bet she's going to get expelled."

We can only hope.

8*8*8*8*8*8

The rest of the week passes by smoothly with no problems.

Like everyone had hoped, Lauren was expelled from school, thanks to the complaints filed by Jess and many other students. Mr. Greene had reportedly had enough and would not be reasoned with when Mr. Mallory tried to persuade him to change his mind.

Royce, having lost one of his most eager _followers _has been absent most of the week, as well, most likely licking his wounds now that his defender is no longer with him.

I was hoping he would stay gone but showed up today in all of his smarmy glory. Luckily, he's been preoccupied and managed to stay away from me.

Rose has even been more relaxed than she has been in a quite a while, though I still notice her looking over her shoulder every now and then.

Jasper still hasn't spoken to me about what's been bothering him, but at least now, he's not avoiding me and Rose like he was. I'm extremely curious as to what had him on edge so badly, but I'll wait until he's willing to tell me himself.

Edward has mostly kept away from me, only asking me questions about the continuous changes I've made to our project. If he's been annoyed, he surprisingly doesn't show it; he simply calls or emails me, asking why I made the change. He listens with rapt attention, interjecting a new idea here and there before murmuring a goodbye.

At school, our interactions are limited, though he has spoken to me in the hall and shown me new ideas he's come up with during the night.

Speaking of, I have the newest idea for an addition to our presentation sitting in my bookbag. I had time to kill in my last class, so I looked it over and wrote down my own ideas for the changes.

Just thinking about it sends a thrill through me for some unknown reason. It must be everything coming together. I _know _the grade for the project will be excellent; if it's not, the system is definitely rigged.

I close my locker with a loud metallic _clang _and flinch back upon seeing Alice's grinning face.

I _have_ to buy these Cullen's bells or something. Jeez.

"Hey, Bella! For tomorrow, are you bringing the hair dye or doing it at your house?"

"Uh, my house. It's easier there."

Alice pouts but nods.

I would do it at her house, but I shudder as I remember the pristine condition of the house, knowing Alice's bathroom is probably just as clean and sparkly. I can't imagine getting dye on anything there; at least my own bathroom has dark floors, and dye stains are already on the walls. I would be eternally guilty if I messed up their house.

Besides, I'm not used to someone watching me. Normally, I do have another person with me, but they're usually helping me or doing it for me. With Alice, I have the feeling she'll stare like a hawk, studying my movements.

"Do you still want me to come over afterward?"

"Of course! Come by around ten or eleven?"

"That's too early." I groan in distaste.

"Sorry." She laughs, sounding anything but apologetic.

"Sure you are. No, ten or eleven is fine. I can take a nap later."

"Of course, you can! So—"

At that moment, Royce walks by, giving me a slimy smirk. I flip him off and roll my eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when he's out of the door.

"He's creepy," Alice remarks.

"Yeah, but luckily I know how to handle creepy."

"I know. Just be careful, though, okay? You never know what someone will do."

I hold my right hand in the air and stand tall. "I promise with all of my black heart."

Alice smirks, but it falls slightly when her eyes dart to something behind me.

Turning, I see Emmett walking beside Rose; his head tilted down slightly as he talks to her. Surprisingly, she doesn't seem bothered or angry, though she does seem a little annoyed as her eyes meet mine.

When she's close enough, she holds her hands out expectantly and then I notice he's holding her bookbag.

"May I have my things back?"

"Are you sure? I can carry it out to your car," he offers with a grin.

"I'm sure."

He shrugs, handing it back with a smile. "I'm just trying to be a gentleman! I read up on this shit. You're supposed to carry a girl's books and open doors and pull out chairs."

She snorts, her eyes sparkling. "What website was this? Tips from the 1950s?"

"A true gentleman never goes out of style. Women such as yourself can take of themselves, that's true, but you should _always _be treated with respect and care; like a beautiful piece of artwork."

By the end of his speech, Rose is starry-eyed and has a glazed over look on her face.

"I gotta run. See ya, Bella." He holds his hand up for a high five and gives a dimpled grin when I stare at him. "Come on. Don't leave me hanging."

Rolling my eyes, I indulge him, shaking my head as he releases a loud, "whoop!"

"I'll meet you at the car, Alice. Goodbye, Rosalie."

He walks away and Rose, still dazed, doesn't even notice he walks off until he's gone.

"Where …?"

"He left," I reply, a little amused. I never thought I'd see _this_. Rose is totally smitten.

"Oh." She clears her throat and straightens her shirt. "Well, thank goodness."

"Mm-hmm. Thank the heavens."

I receive an unamused glance in response, and she mutters something about going to the car to wait for me. I shove some things in my bag and walk out with Alice, making small talk before going our separate ways when we hit the parking lot. I slide into the passenger seat of Rose's car, turning my body so I can stare at her fully.

She looks between me and the steering wheel before she groans and lets her head fall back on the seat.

"I don't know what to think about Emmett …"

My earlier thoughts of teasing and confrontation are doused. To my knowledge, Rose hasn't been like this since Royce, and after that mess, she promised herself she'd never fall quickly for anyone else. If she's acting all starry-eyed and she's unsure about him, I know she must be having some seriously mixed feelings.

"I'm here if you want to talk about it."

I get a smile in return. "Thanks. I just … I'm so confused."

"You'll figure it out."

Turning her head lazily, she smiles. "I hope so."

8*8*8*8

"How was your day?" Mom asks Jasper and me after we've finished our homework. Rose opted to do hers upstairs and then call Vera to see if she could hang out this weekend. No one objected. I think we all sense she needs some time alone.

"Everyone's debating whether or not Lauren has been shipped out of state. Apparently, some are saying they saw her father drop her off at the bus station without looking back," Jasper answers.

I snort a laugh. He sounds like every other gossiper in this town. "Is that what you've been doing in your free time? Catching up on gossip?"

He rolls his eyes. "You hear it whether you want to or not."

"_I _don't hear it."

"You don't pay attention. You're in your own little bubble."

"I like it that way."

Mom laughs lightly, trailing off into a sigh. "Unfortunately, she's still in the area. I saw her in Port Angeles doing community service, picking up trash along the road."

"That's both disappointing and hysterical. But, there's always hope she'll still get shipped off," I say brightly.

"I don't think we'll be that lucky," Jasper murmurs. I nod in agreement.

"We can hope, especially after I heard that her father is one breath away from sending her to some relative's farm."

Jasper and I exchange a humorous glance. "Where did you hear this, Mom?"

"Around. Gossip flows like water around here."

I snicker and nod. It's the truth … especially with the older folks in town.

"Now, I hope you're all hungry," Mom says, popping up from her seat. "I found this new recipe, and it sounded _so _good. I don't have all of the ingredients for it, but I can substitute ..." Her voice trails off as she wanders into the pantry, rifling through the contents. My eyes dart to Jasper, who is staring at his phone with a small grin, not at all paying attention to the disaster about to unfold.

I kick his leg and nod over to my mother, who continues pulling out ingredients. Jasper and I meet each other's gazes with wide eyes. Ordinarily, my mother is a decent cook … when she sticks to a recipe. It's when she wants to create something new that we all tend to worry.

I jerk my head toward the stairs, silently telling him to get Rose, and he takes off without hesitation. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I could swear he has Edward's super speed.

Mom begins piling ingredients on the counter, and I balk at the bottles of hot sauce, garlic, lemon, and vanilla.

"Hey, Mom? Why don't you let Rose and I cook tonight?"

"That's a great idea, Aunt Ren," Rose says smoothly, coming into the room in a hurry, Jasper trailing behind. Her face twists in disgust as she eyes the bottles on the counter. "Bella and I can cook; you know, take the burden off you for a change."

Mom comes out of the pantry, her lips pulled in a small pout, but there's a glint in her eye that's gone before I can tell what it means. "Really? I was looking forward to cooking this evening. I was right, we don't have all of the ingredients, but I'm sure it'll still taste the same with what I have."

We all work hard to keep the grimaces off our faces. Rose and Jasper are more successful. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to relax my face enough. My mind keeps pondering over what the hell she could possibly make with garlic, hot sauce, lemon, and vanilla extract.

Nothing good, I imagine.

"Perhaps for another day?" Rose asks, looking slightly desperate.

"Yeah, Mom. You can cook it for Dad this weekend ... tomorrow, even! We kids will get out of your hair, and you two can have the house to yourselves."

My cousins both snicker at me throwing my dad under the bus and essentially giving us an evening out. My dad won't be very pleased with this turn of events, but he married her. He should know what she's like by now. Plus, I haven't forgotten how he did this exact thing four months ago when she tried something new. He and his buddies at the station had a sudden _meeting_ that lasted well into the night. Needless to say, he had dinner out while we all suffered for my mother's love of creating outlandish new recipes.

"Yes, that's a great idea," Rose agrees. "Vera is coming over tomorrow, and the three of us can take her back to Port Angeles tomorrow evening; we can have a bonding night or something."

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jasper fidget and start to say something, but my mom interrupts, a huge beaming grin on her lips.

"That is a wonderful idea!" my mother squeals, putting everything back in its proper place. "It's been so long since your father and I had a date night."

Rose, Jasper and I all sigh in relief at the crisis that has been averted … at least for now.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

"You're cutting those vegetables too thin," Jasper drawls from his position at the table.

He's been giving Rose and me cooking directions for the past twenty minutes, giving us helpful tips on what will make our meal a better one, while he sits back, relaxing like a king.

"You should have seasoned the meat before it went in the skillet, and then once more after it's simmering. That allows the flavor to last longer."

Turning, I point the knife in my hand straight at him. He's screwing with us because he's trying very hard to keep in his laughter. "If you don't like the way we're doing things, then you get up here and cook yourself. Otherwise, it'll be your ass in this skillet."

"Bella, don't point sharp objects at people. With your anger, it'll accidentally fly out of your hand and into Jasper, and he's the only brother we have."

I set the knife down on the counter to settle Rose's worry and look back at Jasper, challenging him to say something else. Wisely, he keeps his mouth shut, pretending to lock his mouth closed and throw away the key, choosing to focus on his homework because he knows I _will_ haul him out of that chair and make him work.

Ten—peaceful and quiet—minutes later, my dad comes in the door, kicking off his boots and hanging up his gun belt. He comes into the kitchen, slapping Jasper on the shoulder and giving Rose and me a kiss on the head.

"Hey, kids. You're cooking?" He asks, surprised. He inhales deeply and smiles with satisfaction. "Smells good."

"Thanks. Fortunately, we talked Mom out of cooking one of her new recipes," I inform him, watching as he breathes a sigh relief. "Unfortunately for you, she's going to cook it for your date night tomorrow."

Dad gives me a panicked and questioning look, silently asking why I would do such a thing to him, and I smirk in response. "Paybacks are a bitch, Dad."

Understanding dawns on him, and he smiles, chuckling softly. "You little brat. You're lucky I love you," he tells me, giving me a quick hug and a kiss on the head. "Where's your mother?"

"I'm here," she says, rushing into my dad's arms and planting a big kiss on his lips. I let out a playful noise of distaste, and she pulls away, laughing. "Shush, you."

Mom beams at Dad, excitement in her eyes. "Did the kids tell you? They're giving us the house tomorrow for a date night. I have a new recipe to cook for you."

"Yeah, hey!" he says, his face brightening. "Why don't I cook, huh? It's been a while since I spoiled you."

Uh-oh.

This is the only flaw in my plan for revenge. If Mom agrees to let him cook, then Dad will push off her cooking for another evening, and he'll 'unfortunately' have to work late that night.

Behind my back, I cross my fingers, hoping Mom will disagree and I'm not disappointed.

"No, honey. You've been working so hard lately," she says, quickly kissing him. "I'll take a raincheck though."

"Great." He plasters on a fake smile, glaring at me as I snicker.

"You're going to love it!" Mom tells him excitingly before rambling off all of the ingredients she'll be using.

"I'm looking forward to it," Dad says, trying not to show how much he's dreading her new recipe.

"Dinner's ready," Rose announces, effectively distracting from my father's dread.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

"I received the most interesting phone call today," Mom says, drying a dish my dad just handed to her.

Rose and I clean off the table while Jasper disappears into his room. It's our turn to do the dishes, but my mother insisted—and forced my father to help—for some strange reason. I think this conversation may have something to do with it.

"Oh yeah?" Dad answers. "Who was it?"

"Your mother."

The dish in Dad's hand drops back into the water, splashing soapy water everywhere. Mom continues drying the plate in her hand, ignoring his gaping expression. When the plate is put away, she turns toward him, a hand on her hip.

"Yes, I was rather shocked as well. She said she's been trying to get in touch with you for quite some time. Why have you been avoiding her calls?"

"I haven't." He turns back to the sink, focusing _too _much on the plate he's holding. He's trying to be cool, but failing miserably. Rose and I both shake our heads.

"Really? Then why did she say she's been calling the station for weeks and you haven't returned her calls?"

Dad stutters an incoherent explanation, trying to string an understandable sentence together, but the hopeless look on his face says he's not having any luck.

"All right," he finally says, defeated. "I've been avoiding her. She wants us to come for Thanksgiving."

Mom nods. "She mentioned that. I thought you told her I was cooking this year and we weren't making the trip down there."

"I was going to," he argues feebly but stops when Mom holds up a single hand.

"I did it for you. Of course, she wasn't very happy, but she's been told."

Dad breathes a sigh of relief and kisses her cheek. "Thank you."

"With that being said, she's coming up _here_ for Thanksgiving."

"What? She can't come up here! You know what it'll be like!" He gapes. "I had plans to send her on a cruise!"

"How was I supposed to know that, Charles Alexander? If _you _would have spoken to her earlier, then _this _wouldn't be an issue!"

Dad sulks, looking rather put out. "I know. Maybe there's still a way to stop her from coming," he says, his tone thoughtful.

"You better think of something fast. She's booking her ticket this weekend." Mom is silent for a moment, letting the news sink in before she chuckles. "You know, it's funny to see you're still scared of her."

"You've met her."

Mom hums. "Next time though, _you're _telling her, and I'm going to stand right beside you and watch you do it, too. On speakerphone."

"Yes, dear."

I laugh at his scolded face, and he turns, sticking his tongue out at me.

"Really mature, Dad."

He shrugs, not caring, and Mom laughs. "All right, you're done with kitchen duty. By the way, I peeked in your room today, and I couldn't help but notice you _still _haven't put some of your clothes away, Bella. It's been nearly two weeks. Why don't you go do that?"

It's not a request, so I do as I'm told. As I start to shove my clothes in my dresser, I notice my favorite black and blue tie-dye shirt from the other week is missing. I look through my other drawers to make sure it's not there, but I come up empty. I look everywhere; under my bed, in my closet, and behind every bookcase. By the time I'm done looking, my room looks like a tornado touched down.

Downstairs, I head into the laundry room, thinking it must have been left behind, but it's not there either.

"Hey, Mom. Remember my black and blue tie-dye shirt?" I ask, standing in the doorway of the living room.

"Of course."

"Have you seen it?"

She pauses, thinking. "Your tie-dye one, not for a while. Did you not give it to me when I did the laundry?"

"I thought it was in the hamper; didn't you put my tie-dye in there when you picked up my clothes?"

"I didn't pick up your clothes."

Frowning, I turn and go upstairs. If Mom didn't pick up my clothes, then it must have been Rosalie. Neither Jasper nor my father would have done it.

"Rose?" I knock on her door and step inside, watching as she picks out her clothes for tomorrow.

"Yeah?"

"Did you pick up my clothes the other week and put them in the hamper?"

I hold my breath as I wait for her answer. Somewhere deep inside of me, I'm hoping she'll affirm my thoughts that she _did _in fact, pick up my room. But that's blown away when she turns, looking at me curiously.

"No."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Happy October! Are you excited for the upcoming spooky season? I know I am! **

**Thanks to everyone who reads! Your supports mean so much to me.**

**Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03, thank you! **

**(Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**Some of you were wondering about the wolf-pack. This chapter will answer those questions! ;)**

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

I tear through my room, pulling everything out of the drawers and closet until the floor has disappeared. I search under every piece of furniture and come up empty-handed.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't care about a lost shirt. I've lost things before, and they've always turned back up at some point. _This _shirt, however, is my favorite. I wear it all the time; to school, on the weekends … hell, I even sleep in it. It's worn a little around the seams, and there are a few holes in it, but it's super soft and comfortable.

It can't be gone. It can't.

Downstairs, I spot Jasper in the pantry, rooting around like a raccoon.

"Hey."

He jumps and spins around, his eyes wide. He relaxes when he sees me and scowls, tossing a bag of chips onto the table.

"You need a bell or something."

I laugh lightly, having said the same thing to Edward multiple times.

"Sorry."

His eyes narrow as he takes the seat across from me and opens the chips, stuffing a handful of them into his mouth. "No, you're not."

I touch the tip of my nose with a smirk, attempting to ignore the food rolling around in his mouth. "You may be right about that. I do enjoy scaring you."

Unable to help himself, he laughs. "You're nuts."

I shrug. "Hey, none of my shirts have been mixed with yours, have they?"

"Nope," he says after a moment of thinking. "What'd you lose?"

"Treasure," I deadpan.

"I mean, which shirt?"

"My favorite tie-dyed one."

He winces with a sympathetic grimace. He knows how much I love that shirt. "Sorry."

Waving away his apology, I jump and smother a grin as my phone buzzes from my back pocket, tickling the sensitive area there. Jasper looks at me curiously as I roll my eyes and huff, all traces of humor gone as I see the name on the screen.

"Who is it?" he asks, his mouth half full of chips.

Ignoring him, I answer the phone. "Hello, Edward."

He chuckles lowly, warm and smooth. "Don't get too excited."

"I won't. Listen, can I call you back later? I'm in the middle of looking for something."

"What'd you lose, Bella? Your mi—"

In the background, there's a muffled voice and the sound of clothes rustling. Edward can be heard cursing and muttering something before Alice's voice fills the line.

"Hi, Bella! Are you excited about tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Alice. I can't wait to see you."

Jasper coughs, sending more chip debris flying everywhere. Raising a hand to protect my face, I grimace as wet, slimy food touches my skin.

"Jasper, cover your mouth when you're coughing," Mom loudly scolds coming into the room. She pauses when she sees I'm on the phone, mouthing an apology.

I nod and listen as Edward attempts to wrestle the phone away from his sister. After several curses, indignant huffs and crackling static, Edward appears to have won.

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Did you need something?"

"Everything okay?"

I shift and turn away from Jasper's intent eyes boring holes in my skull. The skin on the back of my neck heats and I know he's still staring at me, but at least this way I can pretend he's not.

"Fine," I reply slowly, wondering why he cares so much. "A laundry mishap. Did you need something?"

"Ruin something, Suzie Homemaker?" he teases.

Unable to help myself, I laugh. "With _all _offense intended, go screw yourself."

"Hey now, I could help you."

I snort. "I doubt it."

"Why? Because I'm a man, you think I won't know how to help?"

"No, it's because you're an asshole."

He chuckles and my stomach flutters, the feeling expanding upward toward my chest. I rub at the area there, wondering if I'm having a heart attack or a case of acid reflux.

"Takes one to know one."

"Wow. Nice comeback, Eddie. Have you been holding on to that one since 1996?"

"As a matter of fact—"

He stops abruptly as a distant voice calls his name. More crackling comes through the speaker, muffling the urgent voices speaking.

"I have to go," he says, his tone frenzied. "Check your email. I sent over another change for the project."

Before I can say anything more, he's hung up, the screen flashing twice before going dark.

Weird … What was that about?

The urgency in his tone has my skin tightening and my heart beating furiously in my chest. The sound echoes in my head as I wonder _why _he was frantic.

Why am I worrying about this? It's none of my business.

"Bella? Everything okay?" Mom asks, placing her hands on my shoulders.

I blink twice and shake my head. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Uh, Edward. He had to rush off, though. It sounded urgent."

"Maybe his father got called into the hospital," she offers, distracted as she watches Jasper, who is staring hard at me with unblinking eyes. I raise an eyebrow, and he looks away, munching away on his snack.

I nod, though something is telling me it's more than that. I just can't put my finger on it.

"Did you find your shirt?" She inquires, changing the subject.

"No. Can I check your room?"

"Absolutely not," Dad replies, coming in for a glass of water. "What you'll see in there will require years of therapy, and I can't afford that."

I'm confused as to what he means until the implication clicks. "Ew, Dad! Come on."

He chuckles as Mom stifles her giggles against his shoulder. Jasper stops eating, a noticeably sick expression on his face.

Mom controls herself after a moment. "He's joking, kids. But I'm sorry to tell you; it's not in there. I've checked."

My shoulders slump, and I rest my chin in the palm of my hand. "Great," I say with a heavy sigh.

"It'll turn up," Mom soothes, patting my shoulder.

From the corner of my eye, I see Jasper is again staring at me. Turning, I tap my fingers against the table. "Problem?"

"You're seeing Alice?"

"Tomorrow," I confirm. "I'm going over to her house after I do my hair."

He clears his throat, shifting in his seat. Over his shoulder, Dad narrows his eyes on Jasper's form, his lips twisted to the side as he silently observes him. I wonder what he sees. Dad hasn't made it a secret that he respects and likes the Cullens, so to have Jasper be so mistrusting of them—even if it is _one _of them—will be upsetting.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it?" I counter. "She's a nice person, and she's proving to be a good friend."

"Something just doesn't feel … right."

Taking in a deep breath, I release it slowly, trying to control my temper. To be honest; if I acted this way toward him about his friendship with Edward, he'd have a shit fit.

Instead of telling him this, I shrug a single shoulder. "That's _your _problem, not mine."

Without another word, I head upstairs, nearly bumping into Rose as she stands in the hallway, staring into my room with a half horrified, half angry expression.

"Bella Marie, look at this mess!"

I look to where she's pointing, noting some of it is spilling into the hall. "Yeah, wow. That certainly got out of hand, huh?"

She says nothing; she simply continues to stare with narrowed eyes, breathing deeply. Taking a step back, I jump over the items on the floor and land in my room, hands raised.

"All right, calm down. I'll clean it up, geez."

Half an hour later, my room is cleaned and organized. To my standards, at least.

My clothes are picked up off the floor and stuffed in the dresser or hanging haphazardly off hangers in my closet. Shoes are piled in a lump in the corner and books, papers, and folders are piled on my bookcase and desk.

My bed is littered with art supplies, but that's fine; I need to organize them anyway.

Rose's door is closed, and I can hear the muted sounds of piano and cello playing against the furious turning of pages, indicating she's working on homework.

Downstairs, Dad shrugs on his flannel shirt, snatching his keys from the hook on the wall.

"Where are you going? Is Jasper still holed up in his room?"

"No. He went out to sit in the backyard with your mother while she meditates."

My eyebrows rise into my hairline; he's never gone outside with her while she meditates because he always claims Mom isn't calm enough for meditation. She's always moving or fidgeting, ruining the quiet and still practice.

"Really?"

Dad chuckles. "He needs some time and fresh air. Don't give him too much trouble."

"Me? Never."

He guffaws and motions toward the door. "Wanna come with me to La Push? Billy's gonna be watching the game with Harry, so I'm going over there. Your mother wants to watch some chick-flick that's coming on, so I'm getting out while I still can."

I start to say no but stop to think about it. When I was younger, I used to love going to La Push and playing with Jacob, Sam, and Leah. It's been a while since I've seen them, and it might be a good idea to go over and check on how they are. Not to mention, it'll get me out of watching a romance movie.

"Yeah, let's go."

About twenty minutes later, Dad pulls into Billy's driveway, honking the horn. He laughs heartily as he sees through Billy's living room window that he's startled him. Billy shoots him the finger and throws a curse as he pushes open the screen door.

"You're a real ass, Charlie," Billy complains half-heartedly.

Seeing me in the passenger seat, Billy's eyes light up as he wheels forward. "Bella Swan! Look at you, girl! I haven't seen you in forever. Get over here!"

I lean down and hug him, inhaling the scent of tobacco and leather.

"Hey, Billy. Lookin' good. When's the next bonfire? Can I get an invite?"

The bonfires the elders hosted were amazing. I loved the warmth, the people and the colorful flames of the burning driftwood. Plus, the stories and legends they told were something mystical, otherworldly and unforgettable; they filled my dreams with swirls of colors every night and made me want to paint as soon as I woke.

It's been years since I've been to one; in fact, the last time I had was four years ago, shortly before Jacob started to take on more duties within the tribe.

Before Billy can answer, my name is shouted, the sound of it echoing throughout the night.

"BELLA!"

I'm hoisted into the air and spun around. I tuck my legs inward, so I don't accidentally kick someone—namely Billy—in the face. When I'm down on my feet again, I turn and slug Jacob in the shoulder. It hurt me more than it hurt him, but I still get satisfaction from the action.

"You don't manhandle people, jerk! You may smell like an animal, but dig deep down and try to remember your manners."

He laughs boisterously, throwing his head back and laughing into the crisp night air.

"Aw, did I scare you?"

"Fat chance, idiot. It'll take a lot more than that to scare me."

"Who are you bothering now, Jake?" Leah's voice sounds out from behind him. She walks up and smiles brightly when she sees me. "Bella! Guys, Bella's here!"

All at once, Sam, Paul, Seth, and Jared emerge from the woods, running toward me, in shorts and muscle shirts. Quil is missing, but that's not unusual; he's always been antisocial and quite the jackass, in my opinion.

I'm handed between them, and a moment later, all of them start talking over one another, exclaiming how happy they are to see me. I repeat the sentiment, as well as a few friendly insults.

"It seems like all of you are eating your vegetables," I tease, referring to their bulky, muscular frames.

Paul grins cockily, flexing his arm. "Want some of this?"

"Oh, yes. I must have you now," I deadpan.

Everyone laughs and starts giving Paul a hard time about how his sexual prowess has vanished. After they've had their fill, they invite me down to the beach for a small bonfire to catch up. I agree readily, and a few minutes later, we're at the beach, claiming a seat on one of the logs.

The warmth of the fire, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, and feeling the sand between my toes gives me the most peaceful feeling. If I could, I would stay here all the time.

However, these boys would get on my nerves very quickly, much like Jake is doing now as he repeatedly pokes my arm with his finger. Opening one eye, I look in his direction and scowl pushing at his arm and making him fall backward in the sand.

"Aren't you too old for this behavior?"

"Naw." He laughs, pulling himself back up on the log. "I'm a child at heart."

"I feel bad for Leah."

Next to him, Leah snorts. "Don't be. I'm only with him until something better comes along."

Jake laughs loudly, knowing she's only teasing. These two have been together for years. It's a little intense if I'm being honest; the way they look at each other … it's as if there's no one else in the world but them. Most of the time when I'm alone with them, I feel like an intruder as I catch their heavy glances and secret smiles.

"How have you been, Bella?"

"Okay, I guess. Same old crap, different day."

"Come on; I haven't seen you in what, five, six months? We didn't even get to talk that much then."

"Honestly? Nothing much. It's Forks, dude. Nothing ever changes. We did get some new kids. I made friends with one of them."

Jake looks at me in disbelief. "Really? That poor person." I kick him lightly, and he chuckles. "Seriously though. Good for you. Who is it?"

"Alice Cullen. I think you might know her dad?"

A slow easy smile appears on his face as he nods. "Yeah, Dr. Cullen. He's pretty cool. He helps Dad from time to time with medical stuff. Free checkups and medication and all that jazz. It's pretty awesome of him. He even does medical checkups for others here too."

"Wow," I reply, completely and utterly impressed with Dr. C. You don't hear much about generosity nowadays, so it's nice to hear there are still _some _kind people in the world, willing to help others. "What about you? How are things in your world?"

"It's La Push. Nothing ever changes," he replies. I give him a blank look, and he chuckles. "There's been nothing, really. A few more chores here and there. Getting ready for my eighteenth. It's nothing to brag about."

I nod. Things for Jake are going to get busier with his upcoming birthday in a couple of months. I don't know all the details, but in the past, I've heard him mention he'll take over his father's position as Chief of the Quileute tribe once he turns eighteen. When that happens, Jake will be busier than before with things I can't even begin to comprehend.

I sort of wish things could slow down a bit for him. He's had to take on so much since his mother passed and his father's injury. He deserves a little time just to be a kid, but I imagine he's not taking on anything he can't handle. I'm sure if it's too much for him, he'll say so. He doesn't have a problem speaking up about anything else.

"Maybe I'll come and see you sometime soon," he muses, staring into the fire. "It's been a while since I've hung out with all three of you. It'd be nice, you know? Like when we were kids."

I nod, remembering the goofing around on the beach, the cliff diving and the long walks through the woods while Jake tried to scared the crap out of us with stories of monsters and mythical creatures.

Needless to say, I was never scared. I was always fascinated by the stories and paid close attention to the tales he wove.

"All right, this is boring. No offense, Bella, it has absolutely nothing to do with you," Sam says, nodding his head with a teasing smirk.

Knowing he's just messing with me, I sneer and stick out my tongue at him. "You're not thrilling entertainment either, you know."

He laughs, rising from the log. "Hey, guys, football game!" Sam bellows, tossing a ball up in the air to keep Paul from getting his hands on it.

Everyone except for Leah and Jake rise, following Sam a little further down the beach. Their ribbing cuts off unexpectedly, quiet settling heavy everywhere around us.

Before I can ask what's going on, every single one of their heads snaps to the left, staring hard into the trees.

Seconds later, the distant sound of a wolf howling has the group racing toward the tree line, stopping to anxiously wait as Jake and Leah pull me to my feet.

"What was that?" I question.

"A wolf, obviously."

I give him a sarcastic laugh. "I know that, jackass. Why do all you look concerned? Aren't wolves supposed to howl?"

"Not like that. Something has been disturbed, upsetting the wildlife. Someone might be trying to steal something," Jake answers, his attention still focused on the trees. "We gotta go."

"All of you have to check it out?"

"What if the guy gets away? We're the backup," Paul yells, jogging.

"Bella, why don't you head back toward Jake's house? I'm sure your dad will be ready to go soon. Take the path; it'll be safer." Sam's words aren't a suggestion, leaving no room for argument. Before I can even think of something to say, they're gone, leaving me alone.

I debate following them but decide against it. I'm too tired to go running through the woods.

Jake's house comes into view, but what I see out front stops me short. Edward and Emmett are standing outside behind their father, who is talking quietly with Billy. They're all standing with their backs to me, but it's easy to see their forms thanks to Billy's porch light.

Strangely enough, their clothes are rumpled and slightly dirty, looking as if they had been rolling around in the mud.

Very strange.

What are they doing here? Jake said Carlisle was helping Billy with his medical needs … has something happened?

Slowly, I walk forward, taking careful steps and catching the end of Carlisle's sentence.

"… worry, we'll get him."

"Bewwa!" a little voice calls.

Everyone's attention turns to me. Emmett and Carlisle greet me with pleasant smiles, but Edward glares slightly, almost as if he knows I was trying to eavesdrop.

A tiny body slams into my legs and I look down, seeing Sam and Emily Uley's daughter, Claire, staring up at me with a goofy grin. I toss her in the air once, smiling at her delighted squeal, and hold her to my chest, hugging her.

"Did you make a jailbreak from your Mama?"

Claire nods, holding a chubby finger to her lips. I nod in fake seriousness, planting a loud kiss on her cheek, making her laugh again. I chuckle at her as she winds her arms around my neck in a chokehold, burying her face there. I turn back to the group in front of me, and Edward is now smirking at me, though there is a softness to his face I've never seen before directed toward me.

I decide to ignore him and focus on someone else.

"Hey, everything okay?"

"Just fine," Billy answers with a soft grin. "Doc here was just giving me a checkup."

Opting to test the waters, I nod. "That's nice of you. You didn't travel through the woods, did you? My dad says it's dangerous in there."

They all are stoic, showing no sign my words have affected them. Carlisle gives a small smile. "We steered clear of the woods."

I sincerely doubt this, with the mud and pine needles still clinging to their clothes, but I keep my mouth shut.

Carlisle continues speaking, unaware of my thoughts. "Besides, every month I come by to visit Billy. I can't miss an appointment with my favorite patient. I have to make sure he stays healthy." Carlisle claps Billy's shoulder, making him chuckle.

"I try, Doc. I do."

"Bewwa," Claire mock-whispers, pulling a lock of my hair. I give her my full attention and watch with amusement as she looks at someone from the corner of her eye. "Dat's my boy."

She points at someone, and I follow the direction of her finger.

Edward. _Of course._

Ignoring my own feelings about the person in question, I play along. "Really? You like Edward?"

"You know'd him?" she says, her eyes wide and astonished. "But he's mine!"

"I go to school with him. How do _you_ know him?"

"He's my boy! He singed songs to me and read my stowies. He pways wif me too! His daddy made me betta."

I look between Edward and Claire, noticing the former is gazing at the little girl in my arms with a fond expression.

So, the fierce and 'full of attitude,' Edward Cullen likes kids, huh? Well, maybe he does have a heart.

"Wow! You're very lucky, then."

Claire nods quickly. "Yes. Take me over, pwease."

Unable to deny her request, I take her over to Edward, who immediately bows at the waist, sending her into a fit of giggles.

"Bewwa! He bowed like a pwince!"

"I see that," I murmur, slightly amazed at Edward's behavior. Who knew he could act like this? "Hi, Eddie."

"Hello, beautiful Claire. How are you this evening?"

She giggles again, covering her mouth with both hands and burying her face back in my neck before taking a few peeks.

"What about me? No love for me?" Emmett pouts playfully.

Claire looks over and waves enthusiastically. "Hi, Memmet."

"Hey, there!"

Emmett's connection with Claire is a no brainer. He has the personality to draw kids in and make them laugh. Edward, on the other hand, still astonishes me. But then again, everyone has little hidden traits … and when would I have time to see his? We've never had the in-depth 'getting to know you' conversation or anything. Now I kind of wish we could.

Wait, what?

"I brought you something, little Princess," Edward says to Claire.

She perks up, her full attention on him. He produces a beautiful, single yellow rose from his back pocket, presenting it like it's gold. Claire gasps loudly and gently takes the flower, practically shoving it in her face to smell the fragrance coming from it.

"Bewwa, smell!"

I get the same treatment, as the flower is shoved in my face, but I don't mind.

"That smells wonderful, Claire."

"Who knew you had a soft side, Bella?" Edward smirks, rocking back on his heels. "And here I thought you were all fire and ice. It's nice to see you're … _human._"

There's something about his tone and the look on his face that has my anger soaring. Does he think I'm completely heartless that I wouldn't give comfort to a little girl? Apparently, so.

Making sure Claire is occupied, I flip him off, which only makes him chuckle and I narrow my eyes. Is he _enjoying _this?

From the humor swimming in his eyes, I'd say he is. Sick bastard.

Although, I've pissed him off for my own enjoyment. Damn him.

"Claire!" Emily's voice filters through to us and we all turn, watching as she runs toward me, panicked and out of breath.

In response to her mother's voice, Claire's grip tightens, and she burrows her face deeper in my neck, tucking her flower between her body and mine.

"Claire, you shouldn't run from me like that," Emily scolds. "It's not safe for you to run around out here at night. Your father and I have told you that! I swear," she says, looking at all of us with exhaustion and exasperation clear on her face. "I have no idea how she gets out! We don't leave the door unlocked."

Billy chuckles. "She's a hellion … and just think, _this _is just a preview to her teenage years."

"Wonderful," she grumbles, reaching for her kid. "Come on, baby."

"I not take a baf," Claire argues.

Emily sighs, frustrated. "_This _is all her father. He doesn't think he needs a bath even when the flies are following him."

It's then, Emily notices the people around us, and she gives a wave with an embarrassed but friendly grin. "Hello, all. How are you?" Emily gives me a side hug since her daughter isn't letting go anytime soon.

"Just fine, Emily," Carlisle answers. "How is young Claire? It seems she's a lot better than when I saw her last."

"Yes, thank you so much, Carlisle. That medicine you gave her really brought down her fever a lot."

"My pleasure."

"Bella, thank you for grabbing her. Who knows where she'd be if you hadn't."

"More like she grabbed _me. _Apparently, I'm her rescuer."

"Well nevertheless, thank you. Now," she says, blowing out a huge breath, "I have to get her bathed and in bed."

"No baf," Claire repeats. "I gots a flower, Mama!"

"That's so pretty! We should put it in water right away."

"No," she whines. "No baf."

I can see this is an on-going battle, but hopefully, I can make it a little easier for Emily. "Hey, kiddo." I jostle the body in my arms a bit, causing her to look up at me cautious eyes. "You like _The Little Mermaid_,right?" When she nods enthusiastically, I continue before she can start babbling about Ariel. Once you get this kid started, she won't stop talking until she's run out of breath. "Do you remember where Ariel lives?"

"In da oshum," she replies, pointing a finger toward the beach.

"Right, and what is the ocean?"

"Wata."

"Exactly … the same water that's in a bath. So if you want to be like Ariel, you have to take one."

Her lips purse and her eyes narrow. Everything around us goes silent, and I have to bite my tongue to keep my laughter inside. I'm in a showdown with a two-year-old, so I keep my expression neutral, hoping she'll buy into the story I'm trying to sell.

"Reawy?"

"Yep. Ariel takes baths too."

Again, she ponders this before she twists so suddenly toward her mother that I have to tighten my grip as Emily has to reach out to keep her from falling.

"Bye-bye. Baf, Mama!"

I hand Claire over to her mother and wave goodbye with a chuckle as Claire demands she get a bath right at that moment so she can go swimming with Flounder and Sebastian.

"Bye, Claire! Be good!"

Billy chuckles, shaking his head. "You're good with her. You're going to make a terrific mother, Bella."

"Eh. I'm good at the whole 'Aunt' thing because I can give them back to their parents at the end of the day. Beyond that, no other kids will be in my life."

"Who's having kids?" my dad questions, pushing the screen door open and stepping out. Harry Clearwater follows behind, nodding his head politely toward the Cullens.

"Me. I'm pregnant," I'm deadpan.

Emmett guffaws, and whispers to his brother. Obviously, it's not as quiet as he thinks, because I hear every word he says.

"Who's the father of her love child, huh? Got something to share, Eddie?"

Memories of Edward and I working well together at his house come to mind. Except, this time, things are different and they go farther than the tentative friendliness we exchanged.

Instead of talking and working like we're supposed to, Edward's lips are bruising mine, and his hands are traveling all over my body as he lays me down on his dining room table. Before things can get too graphic, I remember where I am and who I'm with, and back away from that train of thought. I try to play it cool, but I can't stop my cheeks from flushing and my body from tingling.

Whoa, let's back away from that train of thought. He may be good looking, but he treats me like dirt most of the time … not to mention I despise him.

I push those thoughts away, determined to leave them for another time. Now, there's Emmett to take care of. I turn, prepared to tell him off, but Edward beats me to it, hissing something in his ear and glaring as he pulls away. Emmett remains unaffected, smiling like a lunatic.

Dad levels me with a look. "You want me to die young, don't you?"

"Relax, Dad. I will remain a virgin for the rest of my life," I dramatically tell him, raising one hand in the air and placing the other on my chest.

He throws an arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head, chuckling. "That's all I ask."

Everyone laughs, Billy, being the loudest.

"Good luck with that one, Charlie! I remember Renee making the same vow to _her _parents. How long did that promise keep for again?"

Dad makes a face. "Don't even." Then, he gets an evil grin on his face, his eyes cutting over to Carlisle for a moment. "So, Billy, how's everything? You still in good health? Did you tell Carlisle about that rash?"

Harry guffaws as Billy playfully glares. "Perfect as usual."

"Remember what I said," Carlisle interjects. "Lay off the fatty foods and beer."

"Ha! I mean, oh, that's terrible," my dad says, trying to remain sympathetic.

"Laugh it up, chuckles. You're next!"

"Not for a while. I had a checkup the other day. Everything looks good."

Billy grumbles as my dad shakes hands with Carlisle, exchanging pleasantries and then turning to Emmett and Edward, who stand up straighter and square their shoulders.

"These must be your boys."

"Yes, this is Emmett and Edward."

"Hello," Dad says, shaking hands with each of them, not even batting an eye at the cool temperature of their skin. "I've heard a lot about both of you."

They both smirk, and Edward's eyes cut to me for a brief moment as he shakes his head, chuckling under his breath.

For once, I wish I could read minds, so I knew what he finds so funny. I'm sure it's something to do with me and would most likely piss me off, but I would so love to peek inside his head.

"All good things, I hope, sir," Emmett says, grinning.

"Mostly." Dad's mustache twitches. "Well, it's getting late, and I have an early shift tomorrow. Doc, will you be joining our poker game this weekend?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Carlisle answers.

"Great. See you guys later."

Dad heads to the truck, and I give my goodbyes to everyone, following behind him. A few minutes into the drive, Dad looks at his mirrors and briefly turns to me.

"So, that was Edward?"

"Yep."

"Mmhmm. He seems … interested." His grumbling tone sounds almost thoughtful.

"In what?"

"Huh?"

"You said 'he seems _interested_.' What is he interested in?"

"I meant interesting. He's not like you painted him out to be."

I snort. "He's not stupid. Of course, he's going to be on his best behavior. You're the chief of police and his father's friend. He's not going to treat me like dirt while you're standing there."

Dad simply chuckles, as if he's got some kind of inside joke. Before I can ask him what is so funny, he reaches over and pats my hand. "Very true, Bella. Very true."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! **

**Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03, thank you so much for all of your help. (Any mistakes you see are my own!)**

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

Saturday arrives with the loud voices of Rose and Vera. They talk over one another in between rounds of hugs and squeals; I can't make out a single word they're saying, but all that matters are they can.

Their voices get louder as they come up the stairs, disappearing into Rose's room, filling the upper level of the house with excited tones. I wish I could tune them out by putting in my earbuds and blasting my music, but I don't want to ruin them with hair dye.

_Made that mistake before. _

Nearly an hour and a half later, I'm dressed and downstairs, replying to one of Alice's many texts with a heavy sigh. She's asked me more than once if I'm coming over and whether I'm done with my hair, but I couldn't exactly answer since I was in the shower.

I fire off a quick reply, telling her I'm leaving.

In the living room, my mother is dancing and singing along with the radio as she dusts, her hair billowing out behind her. Dad sits in his recliner, television off, watching with an affectionate smile.

She stops when she sees me, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, you look beautiful!" she says, cradling my cheeks between her palms. She does a quick once over on my hair, nodding in approval. "Beautiful. You're getting better."

"It's about time."

"Perfection takes time," she reminds me. "You're going to Alice's now?"

"Yep. What time are you and Dad starting your date?"

"I don't know. Probably four or so," she answers, leaning down to kiss his cheek. He smiles sweetly at her in return, looking love-struck. It never fails to amaze me that they're still so much in love after being together nearly nineteen years. "I'm so excited! Are you going to be coming back by the house after you're finished at Alice's, Bella?"

"Yeah, Rose, Jasper and I have plans, I think."

I'm not too sure about Jasper joining Rose and me; he said he would think about it and get back to us, but so far, he's been quiet on that front. I guess we'll see what he's doing later. It makes me wonder why he's acting so evasive.

"Wonderful. Have fun!"

I nod and start to head out, but Dad's voice calls me back. I walk backward, turning so I can see him.

"Do you have your cell phone?"

"Yep," I reply, patting my purse.

"Good. Call if you need anything."

"I will."

I start out the door once more, but pause I hear Dad's words. "While you're over there today, invite the Cullen's over here."

I backtrack, staring at him with wide eyes. "Why? What for?"

"Because you're friends with Alice and we should meet your friends." By his side, Mom nods with a smile.

"Fine," I say a sigh.

"I'm telling Jasper to invite Emmett and Edward too." I freeze, hoping my ears were deceiving me. "It'd be nice to have the whole family over, don't you think?"

"Not really."

"Bella," he says, his tone disapproving. "Jasper is friends with them. Be polite."

"If I have to," I reply with a grumble. "Don't you have a poker game with Carlisle? Can't you ask him?"

"I could," he hedges. "But it'll look nicer coming from you."

"All right." I sigh dramatically. I'm not too sure about Edward being here, but then again, he'll be on my turf.

_Oh, the possibilities. _

"I have to go now, though. I'll see you later."

Taking the truck keys off the hook, I tell my parents goodbye. I'm tempted to take Rose's car, but she would never let me forget it if I put a scratch on it … again.

"Be safe!"

"Have fun!" my parents shout at the same time.

"Of course. Jasper, I'm leaving!"

I jump in the truck, watching as Jasper comes running out, his shirt halfway on with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth. I watch with amusement as he tries to dress, eat, and run.

He's not very successful in his tasks. He drops one piece of his toast and nearly trips over his untied sneakers. I muffle my laughter with the back of my hand and bite the inside of my cheek.

"Hey," he says, jumping into the cab, breathless. After his seatbelt is buckled, he turns to me with a glare. "You couldn't have waited for me?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Barely," he mumbles around another bite of toast, still looking displeased.

"Jeez, you're a crab this morning. I'm half tempted to push you out," I mumble, accelerating down the road.

He sighs, leaning his head back. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous. I still haven't sorted out everything."

"What about? Alice?"

A quick, worried look out of the corner of his eye tells me all I need to know. "You're overthinking this, Jasper. Just take your time and think things out. No one is forcing you to make a decision right now."

Nodding, he lapses into silence for the rest of the drive, his head resting against the back of the seat. I give him the silence and space he needs.

Plus, I need to keep an eye on the directions. I don't want to get lost.

Ten minutes later, I pull up in the Cullen's driveway. Jasper straightens, looking up at the house somewhat nervously.

Reaching over, I slap his arm. "Hey. You're here to hang out with Emmett and Edward."

A smile grows on his lips. "Yeah." He trails off in a short laugh. "Sorry. I'm just …"

"Weird," I finish for him. "It's okay. I love you anyway."

He laughs, shaking his head and mumbling something under his breath. I watch with amusement as he jumps out, standing in front of the truck, impatiently waving for me to hurry up.

"Excited?"

"Yeah!" He exclaims, his face bright and youthful, not bogged down by worry.

"For what?"

"I'm playing a game with the guys. It has amazing graphics and new features. I've been itching to play this game for months! I don't know how they got ahold of a copy; I've been on the waiting list since it was announced three months ago!"

"Ah." I nod like I know what he's talking about, and start for the front door, but Jasper isn't convinced.

"I told you about it," he says, trailing after me. "Come on, you remember, don't you? That zombie survival game? The one with a new, mutated zombie with kickass powers? You watched the trailer and said it looked cool; you promised to play it with me."

I vaguely remember seeing the commercials and Jasper's excitement for it after he went online to read all about it, so I nod once more.

"It's gonna be great!"

"I'm sure it will be."

Reaching out, I press the doorbell and seconds later; the door opens to Dr. C's smiling face. "Bella! How lovely to see you. How are you?"

"I'm not in jail yet or wanted in any states, so all is good."

He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and turns his attention to Jasper. "Unfortunately, we haven't had the pleasure of meeting, and I'm sorry about that. Work at the hospital takes me away from my family quite a bit. I'm Carlisle Cullen. Emmett, Edward, and Alice's father. You must be Jasper; I've heard a lot about you."

Jasper pales, swallowing thickly and tugging at the collar of his shirt. "I … uh … what have …"

Discretely, I kick him in the shin, refraining from shaking my head and muttering a curse.

Of course, he's heard of my idiot of a cousin; he's friends with his sons.

Seemingly catching on to my thoughts, Jasper's face reddens, and he clears his throat, a sheepish expression on his face.

"I'm sorry; I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Dr. C nods, waving off his words with an understanding grin, but his eyes are dancing with amusement.

"Of course. Do come in, you two."

He steps aside, and we walk in, immediately greeted by Alice.

She rushes up to me, her face alight in excitement and anticipation. "Hi, Bella. I'm so glad you're here! Your hair looks so good," she gushes, fingering a few strands of deep burgundy and purple. "Beautiful!"

"Thanks."

Ever so slightly, her eyes drift over to Jasper. "Hello, Jasper."

He bows his head slightly, murmuring his greeting, shuffling to the left, closer to me. Dr. C quietly whispers something to Alice, who nods, before excusing himself.

Before things can get too awkward, I look expectantly at Alice.

"So, what are the plans for today?"

Alice gestures toward the stairs with a beaming grin. "I have movies set up in my room." She stops suddenly, tapping a finger against her bottom lip as her eyebrows come together. "Do you want snacks? I'm not sure what to do for a movie marathon."

"Maybe later," I suggest, wanting to take the pressure off. I don't want to make this more difficult than it needs to be.

Happily, she nods and heads upstairs, her feet barely making a sound. At the landing, she turns, ducking down to look at Jasper, who is staring after us quizzically.

"I'll send Emmett and Edward down. Make yourself at home."

Without waiting for a response, she rises and prances down the hallway. As I follow, I take in the art hanging on the walls.

Framed black and white photographs adorn the first section of the wall, showcasing different members of the Cullen family; Carlisle standing with his arms wrapped an Esme. Both of their heads are turned toward one another, their foreheads almost touching as they stare into each other's eyes, small smiles gracing their lips.

Next, are pictures of the Cullen kids; Emmett and Alice are always at the forefront, huge smiles on their faces, their eyes twinkling with merriment. One thing I notice is that Edward is either in the background of the pictures, brooding and sullen, or he's missing entirely.

The photos transition into color, showing varying events; anniversaries, fundraisers, and candid family portraits.

From the stunning pop of color and effects in some, it's clear Alice is responsible for these shots that look as if they belong in a movie, rather than here in the real world.

Artwork takes the place of pictures the further we go down the hall, and I pause at one particularly odd piece. It almost looks a blanket, with a series of different colored fabrics of a creamy beige, navy blue, forest green, and burgundy stitched together.

It's kind of an odd piece, and I turn to ask Alice about it, but she's at the last door at the end of the hall.

Hurrying forward, the question dies on my tongue as she knocks on the door.

"Edward's room," she informs, seeing my puzzled look.

Sucking in a breath through my teeth, I step back until my back hits the opposite wall.

The door opens, and Edward is there, wearing a black shirt and dark wash jeans. The darkness of his clothes sets off his pale skin, making it seem to glow in the muted light coming from within.

The corner of his lips twitch in a smirk, and I realize belatedly, that I'm staring at him with my mouth hanging partially open.

Snapping my jaw shut, I look over his shoulder, seeing the walls painted a soft ocean blue, a row of black bookcases and a desk sitting in front of a wall of glass. Vaguely, I surmise it must be the backyard, though I can't tell for sure. On the wall nearest the door is an unmade bed, the mattress clearly visible.

What's surprising is there is nothing in the room; no personal effects; no pictures, posters, books or binders. The only thing that hangs on the wall is a flat-screen television, perched in between two dark, cherry wooden doors.

Why doesn't the room look lived in? Where are his possessions? It looks as if this is just an empty room, ready for an occupant.

"Jasper's here," Alice tells him.

"Thanks."

Alice nods and turns, stepping back as Edward shuts the door once more.

"Obviously, that was Edward's room. And that," she says over her shoulder, pointing to the room one over from Edward's. "Is Emmett's."

"Where the magic happens!" he booms, opening his door and coming out into the hallway.

"I'm sure you and your right hand had many happy memories in there," I joke.

Emmett laughs, throwing his head back. "If you only knew the half of it," he says with a wink.

"Ew! Too much information, Emmett." Alice groans as I laugh.

"I'm joking!" he says with a chortle as his phone dings from the pockets of his shorts. The smile on his face is huge as his fingers fly over the screen. "Is Jasper here?"

"Downstairs."

He pockets his phone and nods once. "Excellent. Is Mr. Moody coming?"

"I'm here," the person in question says.

"Let's go get this party started then!"

Emmett bounds down the steps and Edward follows after him at a calmer pace. Before he disappears out of sight, he glances back at me with a slight smirk, leaving me to wonder what the hell he's up to.

I decide to put it out of my mind and go into Alice's room, stopping in the doorway in awe and shock.

Clothes, shoes, accessories, and various papers are strewn about the floor. I have to give her credit; you can see the carpet, but still. I would never have thought Alice was messy. You look at her, and her appearance just screams "calm and organized."

_Appearances are deceiving, I guess._

Alice laughs at my shocked expression. "I know. It's a mess, but I know where everything is." Her eyes scan the chaos and she nods with a smile, seemingly satisfied with her appraisal. "As long as I tidy it every week, my parents don't have an issue. Come in."

Once I'm completely inside, I can take in more of her room, and I have to say, I'm impressed.

The walls definitely scream Alice with their mint green, and swirls of bright blue, pink, and yellow interspaced throughout. In the corner, next to a small desk, is a bookcase filled to the brim with books and binders, overstuffed with papers. On top is a small television, a dull red light gleaming in the corner.

Opposite of that is a daybed covered in a pink and purple comforter. Her room is nice, but the most magnificent feature is the wall of windows that overlooks the backyard.

From here, I can see the thick woods that surround the house, encasing the property with trees. I take all of it in with embarrassing awe, gazing through the glass with my mouth open in astonishment.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

"That's an understatement." If I had this view, I would never leave my room.

"Over to the left there, you can somewhat see the river that runs behind the house. It's kind of hard to see on this level; it's better from upstairs. But I love this view; the trees are very peaceful to me."

"Wow. How do you leave your room? This view is amazing!"

"It is pretty great," she replies with a laugh. "I'll admit, when we first got here, I just sat on the floor, staring outside. It's so peaceful."

I nod. I would do the same thing.

On her desk, I see a photo album resting on top, this one green and blue. I wonder if it has more of the pictures she had shown me before.

My fingers twitch to pick it up, but I remember my manners and ask before I make a move toward it.

"Of course!" she replies, snatching the book and thrusting in my direction.

She bounds over to the bed, patting the space beside her. "Come sit."

Taking the seat, I look through the album, seeing the same women—along with Esme, Carlisle, Emmett, and a couple of new faces—littering the pages. The pictures are in a sepia tone, with a folded, crinkled appearance, giving it a vintage feel.

The dresses are gothic Victorian; all black lace, midnight blue, and deep red, the color of blood. They're all awe-inspiring, and I tell her so.

She looks up at me through her eyelashes and smiles shyly. "Thank you."

I want to ask her about the gorgeous couple in some of the pictures, especially about the light-haired man; there's a sense of familiarity in his strong features, but I never get the chance. She gently takes the album from me, setting it aside with care.

"So, ready to watch movies?"

Nodding, I watch as she turns on the television, settling into the mattress next to me. It surprises me that she didn't even have to find the channel hosting the marathon, but I guess she was completely prepared for today.

A quarter of the way into the second movie, an indignant shout reverberates throughout the house, making me jump.

"What the hell was that?"

"Emmett," Alice answers nonchalantly.

"Is he okay? He sounded pissed," I reply, slightly worried for the safety of the people downstairs.

Alice waves my concern away. "He's fine. He's only loud like that when he's losing. Pay him no mind."

Another shout and a loud crack have Alice sighing heavily, her head falling onto the mattress.

Grumbling under her breath, she jumps up and motions for me to follow.

Downstairs, the first thing I see is the flat screen television hanging at an odd angle on the wall, a large crack splintered from one corner to the middle. Glass litters the carpet, and a broken game controller sits among the mess. Off to the side, Carlisle looks on with exasperated disapproval as Edward and Jasper attempt to control their laughter, though the former looks a little shaken.

Esme runs into the room shortly after we arrive. Upon seeing the mess, her eyes widen, and she spins around toward Emmett.

"Look at what you've done! How many times have I told you, you need to control your temper?"

"More than a couple," Emmett mumbles, looking like a scolded puppy.

"Yes, more than a couple." Esme sighs in exasperation. "This is the third thing you've broken this month."

Edward, no longer able to control his humor, snorts, and Esme's head shoots up. "And you!"

"Me?" he asks, trying to be innocent. Honestly, I'm shocked he's behaving like this. I haven't seen him this carefree … ever. I wasn't even sure he was capable of having fun. This is certainly a strange week … I'm seeing a whole new dimension to Edward Cullen I never thought had existed before. "What did I do?"

"You know very well what you did. You egg him on, and this happens!" She waves her arms around, pointing to the broken television.

"I swear, this time, I'm innocent."

Esme regards him for a moment before shaking her head. "Nevertheless, you do egg him on, and that has to stop. Plus, this isn't funny!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Emmett, you're cleaning this mess up right now, and you're purchasing a new television with your own money. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mom."

That's all his punishment is going to be? At my house, that would have equaled months—if not years—of grounding and chores.

Jasper, seemingly on the same path as my thoughts, meets my gaze with an astonished look of his own.

"Wow," he mouths.

I nod in agreement, and our silent conversation gains Edward's attention. His eyes study me with a calculating gaze, searching my face for something. Not willing to play whatever mind games he has in store, I turn my eyes to Emmett, who hasn't moved from his position and is pouting at the television, much to the annoyance of Esme.

"Emmett?"

"What?" he questions, confused.

Esme looks astonished he doesn't know what she's talking about and looks at her husband. "Carlisle, what is wrong with our children?"

"I don't know, my love," he answers, trying to control the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Esme closes her eyes, drawing in a deep breath through her nose and holding it for a moment before releasing it and opening her eyes.

"Emmett, start cleaning this up and order a new television. Now. In the meantime, you'll be bringing your television down here. I refuse to miss my shows because of your carelessness."

Emmett jumps into action at Esme's firm tone, running into the kitchen and bringing back a trash can and the vacuum cleaner. While he cleans, Esme looks at Jasper and me.

"I'm sorry the two of you had to witness this."

"They better get used to it," Alice chimes in, walking over to her mother and placing a hand on her shoulder. "If they're going to hang around, they're going to see a lot of that and more."

"Isn't that the truth," Esme mumbles. "And, Emmett, if my wall is damaged, you're fixing that too."

"Yes, Mom," he says without argument, almost done with cleaning the mess on the floor.

Esme nods once. "Alice, come help me with something," she says, turning and leaving the room.

Carlisle follows after them, disappearing around the corner with a gentle smile. At this point, Emmett is done cleaning up the glass and mumbles about ordering the new television and making a phone call.

Having no idea what those two things mean unless he has a TV dealer, I shake it off.

Jasper saunters over, leaning against the banister. "Can you believe this? At our house, that would have been, what? Six months grounding?"

"If not more. I can't believe it; they are so cool."

Jasper nods in agreement. "Yeah."

"What happened?"

Jasper laughs, casting a nervous glance at the television. "Emmett chucked the controller right into the television. _Hard. _I don't know how he did that much damage, honestly."

"Emmett's a big guy," I murmur. "He probably has more strength than we think. Plus, some TV's are made shitty. You can look at them wrong and they'll break."

"Yeah," he mumbles cynically, looking at Edward as he steps closer. "So what are we going to do now?"

Edward shrugs. "I'll bring down Emmett's television and hook it up. It won't take long."

"Excellent." Jasper rubs his hands together in anticipation. "Can I help?"

"No, I got it."

"Are you sure?" Jasper questions, skeptically. "Those can be a little heavy."

"I'm sure. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Edward leaves us alone, but tension immediately begins falling like a heavy fog. When Alice reappears, and she and Jasper exchange awkward, stilted glances before quickly looking away. Jasper rubs the back of his neck, boring holes into the floor, while Alice stands at my side, twining her fingers together.

Feeling uncomfortable, I turn to Alice. "Do you want to continue the marathon?"

Eagerly, she nods. "Yes. Let's go."

Two movies later, it's late afternoon, meaning it's time to go.

I fully prepare myself to have to wrangle Jasper away from playing the video game, but to my surprise, he's standing near the front door, quietly talking with Edward.

When I reach the bottom step, Edward's eyes are on me, and Jasper follows his gaze.

"Hey, Bella. Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"Wait!" Alice exclaims, holding out her hands. "I'm going to tell my parents you're leaving; they'll want to say goodbye."

"Okay."

"Let me go say bye to Emmett, and we'll get going," Jasper says shortly after she's gone, scurrying from the room, following behind Alice, leaving a good distance between them.

"Tell him goodbye for me, too."

"Will do."

With Jasper gone, it's just Edward. I try to focus on anything else besides him, but unfortunately, my eyes keep landing on him, and he keeps staring at me with an infuriatingly thoughtful gaze.

"What are you staring at?" I blurt out.

"Nothing," he answers easily. "You hair looks nice."

I give him a peculiar look, wondering if he's insulting me or complimenting me. It's hard to tell with the neutral sound of his voice … and the fact that he's never given me any compliments before.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Didn't it sound like one?" he questions, tilting his head to the side as he looks a tad confused.

"It did, but I was just so surprised to hear one come from you, I wasn't sure."

"I live to keep you on your toes. It keeps things more interesting; don't you agree?"

I scoff. "Maybe for you."

"Don't be so put out," he replies smoothly. "You'll think of a good comeback soon."

I find myself smiling at his teasing words. A pleasant thrill races through me as we converse like this. As much as I don't want to admit it, I much prefer this side of Edward. This is an Edward I can grow to like … and it scares the crap out of me because I think a part of me already does. A lot.

Edward smiles back, his face and posture relaxed. It's weird to think we're both smiling … at each other.

Knowingly.

On purpose.

It's weird.

"All right, you ready Bel … la?" Jasper trails off awkwardly.

I break away from Edward's eyes and turn to Jasper, who gives me a knowing smirk. I screw my face up at him, sticking my tongue out slightly.

"Yep. Let's go taunt Dad with the takeout food we'll be having tonight."

Jasper chuckles, shaking his head. "You're evil."

"Of course I am. You should know by now."

Esme, Alice, and Carlisle come in, giving Jasper and me warm smiles.

"I'm sorry about Emmett's behavior earlier. I hope you both had a nice time, regardless," Esme says, her arm wrapped around Carlisle's waist.

"It was a blast. You're the first parents I've seen that don't ground, so that makes you pretty cool," I tell them seriously. "In fact, I'm going to adopt you as my second pair of parental figures. Congratulations, it's a girl!"

They both laugh. "Well, we already think of you like family, so now it's official," Carlisle says.

"Yay! We're family!" Alice squeals.

It's then I remember the conversation with my father earlier this morning. "Oh, yeah. My dad wants to have you all over some time."

Esme smiles kindly. "That would be wonderful. I'll call your parents soon and set something up."

"Okay. See you later."

Jasper gives Edward a quick goodbye and follows me as I start to leave.

Before I'm fully out of the house, Emmett shouts from somewhere, "Bye, Bella!"

"Bye, Emmett!"

Jasper and I go out to the truck and leave the Cullen house, all without looking at Edward. Even though I'm not looking at him, I somehow know his eyes are watching me.

8*8*8*8*8

At home, my mother greets us at the door, wearing a white flowing summer dress, her light brown hair loosely curled, framing her glowing face.

She glances between us with a bright smile as she asks about our time at the Cullen house, and while she's happy Jasper and I have new friends, I know most of her happiness stems from the upcoming evening with my father. She loves their date nights.

"Did you two enjoy yourselves?"

"Yes, it was interesting," Jasper replies. "Emmett lost the game we were playing and broke the television."

Mom releases a short laugh, covering her mouth. "Oh, dear. That sounds … What happened?"

"He flung the controller straight into the screen; cracked it in half. His parents made him pay for a new one."

"As it should be." She nods firmly. "Bella, did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was really nice. I see you're ready for your date tonight," I say nodding to her outfit.

She spins, the skirt of her crème dress billowing out like a cloud around her. "I am. I got this earlier in the week; I saw it in a store window, and it spoke to me. I had to have it."

"It's definitely you. You look great."

"You really do, Aunt Ren," Jasper tells her, kissing her cheek. "And speaking of getting ready, I have to get ready myself. Excuse me."

Mom says something about prepping dinner, and I watch with amusement as she takes out bizarre ingredients, setting them down on the counter next to the skillet. I can't fathom what she would make with them, but my father will find out soon enough.

_Ha!_

In the living room, Dad is watching sports, but his eyes worriedly dart to the kitchen periodically. When I enter, he sheepishly smiles, shrugging his shoulders and patting the space next to him on the couch. I take a seat and lean against his arm, resting my head on his shoulder.

"What is she pulling out in there? I've heard her make frequent trips into the pantry."

"I believe there was a lemon, vanilla, chili pepper, and basil leaves."

Dad looks disgusted by what I've told him. "I can see I'll be sick tonight."

"You never know. It might be good."

He gives me a dubious look, but shrugs and changes the subject. "Did you have fun with Alice?"

"Yep. She's pretty cool."

Reaching over he pats my hand. "Good. I'm glad you found a friend in her. I get the feeling not a lot of people make that effort," he trails off, thoughtfully. I nod in agreement. There have been a few people who attempted to speak to her, but after a few minutes, they scatter away. I guess being different will do that to people. "Did you tell her and her parents about your folks wanting to meet them?"

I nod. "Yup. Mrs. Esme said she'd call you."

"Esme?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

I hold my hands in defense. "She insists on it. She gives you that scary 'mom' look if you call her Mrs. Cullen."

"Carlisle is the same way. He insisted at every turn for me to call him Carlisle when I met him."

"Yeah, he insisted with me too."

"Well, that's okay then."

The front door opens, and Rose and Vera's voices meet my ears. They come into the living room, whispering and giggling before Vera departs to get something from Rose's room.

To my surprise, Rose looks completely different … and I don't mean the lighter and more carefree aura she's radiating.

Her hair, once dyed a dark chocolate brown, is back to its natural appearance: a shimmery golden blonde that matches Jasper's perfectly.

"What?" Rose questions, fingering her new-old strands. "No good? I just … I'm just tired of being someone I'm not. I'm tired of not being me. Someone … someone told me I shouldn't allow people or fear to dictate who I am. I thought it was good advice. I thought it was time to look like me again."

Dad smiles fondly, rising from the couch. "You look beautiful, sweetheart." He pulls her into a hug and holds her tightly, whispering something in her ear.

She returns his hug, squeezing her eyes closed and rests her head on his shoulder. From my position, I see the gentle flow of tears cascading down her cheeks.

A moment later, she pulls away, laughing lightly as she wipes the wetness from her cheeks.

"I'm taking Vera home. Bella, you're coming with us, right? Maybe you, me, and Jasper can get some dinner and see a movie; spend some quality time together. What do you say?"

I give her a skeptical look. Dinner is fine, but Rose has different tastes in movies than Jasper, and I do. But who knows, maybe we can find common ground. It'll be good to spend time with her, as well. We haven't been together much since she's been studying so hard.

I miss the days where we would spend hours talking and painting together. Hopefully, before she leaves for college, we can do that again.

"Sounds good. When are you leaving?"

"When Jasper makes an appearance and when Vera comes back down."

"I'm here," the girl in question says, her black curly hair bouncing on her shoulders as she jumps off the last step. "Thanks for letting me borrow Rosalie today, Chief Swan."

"No problem at all, Vera. It was nice seeing you again. Hopefully, you can make another visit soon."

"I'll certainly try."

Dad nods, and I rise from the couch, going to stand with Rose. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Your hair looks more vibrant today," Rose observes. "Did you renew your color?"

"I did."

Rose's lips twist with disapproval, and I shake my head, indicating I don't want to hear her lecture.

"I think it looks great, Bella," Vera tells me, smiling softly.

I thank her, and she smiles brighter, almost like she was afraid I would refuse her compliment. Although, I suppose that's a fair conclusion to come to; we haven't spent much time together, so she doesn't really know me that well. Plus, I'm sure if Rose tells it, I'm a terrible, morbid brat, which is only half true. I don't consider myself a brat.

"Let me see if Jasper is ready and then we'll go."

"No need," Jasper says, answering Rose's questions as he enters, looking put together in a pair of jeans and a black button-down shirt. He stops mid-step, staring at Rose for a long moment before a slow, proud smile stretches across his face. "You look great, sis."

Mom wanders in to say goodbye, immediately gushing over Rose's hair and Jasper's nice clothes.

"Oh, my babies are so grown," she enthuses, a little teary-eyed. "You're all so beautiful and grown-up looking. When did that happen?" Fondly, she cups my cheek, sweeping her fingers over my temple. "And you two!" She cries turning to Rose and Jasper. "You both look just like your parents. Don't they, Charlie?"

Dad nods, his eyes glassy looking. I know he misses his best friend; it must be hard to see reminders of him everywhere, but I know he wouldn't turn Rose or Jasper away for anything. He loves them as if they were his own.

"The spitting image of them. It's remarkable. It's like I've stepped through time."

Jasper's chest puffs up with pride while Rose blushes. That's the best compliment they could ever receive from anyone, I think.

"Thank you," Rose and Jasper murmur in sync.

After collecting themselves, Rose clears her throat. "We need to be going."

I take the hint and start for the door, turning back to my parents. "Be good and behave. Remember, we look up to you, so anything you don't want us to do, you _shouldn't_ do," I joke.

They laugh, shaking their heads. "All right, all right. Get out of here. Be safe, be good. Call if there's anything you need, okay?"

"We will," Jasper and I say at the same time.

As I open the door to the backseat, the sounds of Katy Cyrus or whatever the hell her name is, meets my ears, and I groan under my breath, preparing myself for the longest hour of my life. The only good thing about this trip is, I won't suffer alone.

An hour and a half later, Jasper asked to be let out downtown, where he could pick up a special order. Rose protested, but he said it only made sense; he could run his errand and pick out a restaurant while Rose had her last moments with Vera.

Rose releases more than a few tears at her departure, which is rather odd. Sure, Vera lives over an hour away, but visits like this can happen frequently over the summer.

When they finally pull away from their tear-infested hugging, I wave to Vera as she goes into her house and gives Rose a few minutes to collect herself. Once her tears are dry, I ask her why she's so upset.

"You promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Rose, please," I scoff. "I'm not that type of person. I don't gossip."

"Of course, of course. You're right." She draws in a deep shuddering breath and begins speaking again. "Vera's leaving Washington in a couple of months."

Ah. That explains the crying. "Oh, is she graduating early like you?"

"No. Her parents are sending her to live with her grandparents in New York."

It doesn't make sense. Why uproot Vera during her senior year? Why not let her complete her last year of high school here, where she knows people and has friends close by?

Seconds later, my unspoken questions are answered.

"She's pregnant."

My eyes widen. "Oh."

"Yeah. Her parents are afraid she'll get picked on, so they want to send her to New York so she can go to a private school for pregnant teenagers."

"Wow. That's kind of old fashioned."

"I thought so too. But you know how it is in this area, Bella. Kids can be cruel, and Vera doesn't need that added stress. Plus, it'll be better for her and her baby; she has a lot of family in New York. She'll have a complete support system while she finishes high school and goes to college." She pauses for a moment, looking down at her hands. "Vera always talked about going to NYU. It's her dream school. She'll just be moving there sooner than she planned."

"What about the baby's father?"

Rose shrugs. "Vera hasn't told him yet. About moving, I mean. She knows he can't come with her and she's scared that once she's gone, then he'll forget about her and move on. I told her it wasn't likely to happen. He loves her; he proposed the second he found out about the pregnancy."

I don't really understand the whole situation. If Vera's boyfriend is willing to step up and be a father, then why separate them? I understand it'll be hard for Vera, but her father is always around since he was injured on the job a few years ago. He could help homeschool Vera during the later term of her pregnancy so she can graduate. Afterward, Vera and her boyfriend can decide what to do from there.

Then again, it's really none of my business, so I stay out of it. Maybe they'll come to that conclusion on their own.

"Everything will work out for her. And you." I will, however, keep my idea on the back burner, just in case I'm ever asked my opinion.

"I'm not important," she replies. "Vera has a lot to worry about; she doesn't need to worry about me."

"If you weren't important to her, then she wouldn't have stuck by you during the whole Lauren fiasco, and she wouldn't have told you about her pregnancy or the fact that she's moving. I'm willing to bet she's hurting over leaving you too."

Rose ponders this for a moment before nodding. "You're probably right. Besides, it's not like I'll never see her. She promised to come and visit. Plus, I can visit her and call or Skype her. It won't be too bad." A few more tears fall, and she brushes them away, taking in another breath. "Let's not talk about this anymore. Let's have fun."

"Sure. What's for dinner? I'm starving!"

"Italian?"

"Ooh, pizza! Please?" I beg, clasping my hands together and pushing my lower lip out in a huge pout.

"Fine, pizza," she says with a laugh. She shoots off a quick text to Jasper, telling him of our decision for dinner. Seconds later, her phone chimes and she frowns, her lips pursed.

"What?"

"He's meeting up with friends and says to go ahead without us."

To be honest, I'm a little peeved; this was supposed to be our night for hanging out and catching up like we used to do.

Soon, there won't be a time when the three of us can simply hang out just because we want to. In a few months, Rose will be graduating and heading to college in Seattle. It isn't that far away, and I know she'll be home whenever she can, but it won't be the same.

A few months after that, Jasper and I graduate. I know Jasper wants to head off to college, though he's still not sure what wants to study. And me, well, I have no freaking idea what I want to do after high school.

Hell, I haven't even applied to colleges like I told my parents and cousins I did. I'm sure once they find out, I'll be in a shitload of trouble.

I'll cross that bridge later, I guess.

Heaving a sigh, I decide to look at the positives for the night. Jasper might not be here, but at least I can still hang out with Rose.

Hopefully, the three of us can hang out sometime soon.

"His loss," I tell her, linking my arm with Rose's.

After we consume the most delicious pizza in Port Angeles, Rose suggests we see what's playing at the theater. From what I can remember about movie trailers playing on TV, nothing looks good, but maybe there's something that hasn't had enough advertising.

Instead of driving the block to where the theater is located, we decide to leave Rose's car at the pizzeria and walk.

"What do you want to see?" Rose questions, crossing the street.

"I don't know. I thought we could look and agree on something together."

"There was this action movie I saw—"

Rose is cut off as a hand reaches out, grabbing and pulling her into the alleyway. Immediately, I run after her and feel my blood boil as I see Rose backhanded, and then pinned to the brick wall with a firm hand around her throat … by none other than Royce King.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello, everyone! Thank you for your continued support with this story. I know it's a slow burn, but I appreciate your patience. Don't worry, though! It will be worth it! ;) **

**Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03-thank you for all of your help. Any mistakes you see are my own.**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

For a moment, I'm underwater, weighted down with concrete shoes.

A roaring thunder pounds in my ears as I watch, frozen, as Rose is slammed against the brick wall. Royce's hand comes down on her throat as she attempts to scream.

Panic seizes me, and I begin to shake so hard my teeth rattle.

At this time of night, there's no one walking the streets, doing their shopping. There are no groups of people just wandering aimlessly around town. Not with the disappearances that have been happening. Apparently, we're the only ones stupid enough to go walking around at night.

Why had I been so stupid? Why didn't I look at our surroundings before walking this way? Why didn't I insist we take the car?

I spot a few people down by the movie theater, but can I make it there and back before Rose is seriously injured?

There's no way I can take the chance. I can't leave her alone with this creep.

Knowing no one is going to help us, I shake off the paralyzing fear and focus on the pained look on Rose's face.

I have to help her. I can't fail her.

Without a second thought, I rush forward, delivering a firm kick to the back of his knee and a punch to the side of his head at the same time.

Immediately, his leg buckles and he releases his hold on Rose, groaning as his knee cracks down against the pavement. Rose collapses to the ground, coughing and gasping. I attempt to pull her up, shouting for her to get up and move.

She tries, but as soon as she's up, she falls, still coughing and wheezing.

Just as I lift her, she's shoved into the wall, and I'm knocked back a few steps.

Royce steps in front of me with a smirk, slowly shaking his leg. "I … don't … heh, heh … You are a feisty one."

Suddenly, he lunges for me, his arms outstretched and fingers grasping before I can understand what he's mumbling about. Jumping to the side, I sidestep him easily, elbowing him in the back of the head. My arm immediately throbs, but I push past it, running back to Rose.

"We have to get out of here," I say, my eyes zeroing in on the bruises already popping up on her neck. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I help her stand, and we make a run for it.

A hand in my hair violently yanks me backward, and I scream out, feeling my hair get ripped out of my skull like a wax job. I hiss and turn, trying to elbow him wherever I can reach before he twists my arm behind my back and somehow flips me over his shoulder.

_What the hell? How did he do that?_

For a moment, I just lay there motionless on the cold, wet ground.

My eyes bulge as I attempt to breathe, but it seems like I've forgotten how. My lungs burn, and my chest aches. Darkness swims around the edges of my vision, but I remind myself I need to stay awake; I need to _breathe. _

Finally, the automatic action clicks in, and I gasp in heavily. The cool air, tinged with the smell of mold and garbage invades my lungs. It's a sickening smell that makes my stomach roll, and I gag as I take in the first few breaths.

Despite the sickness clutched in my stomach, I take in lungful after lungful, trying to fight off the darkness whirling around me.

My head throbs in sync with my heart and I feel a groan escape my chest, but I hear nothing but silence and wonder if I've died. I stare up into the cloudy sky with the buildings around me, reaching up like outstretched arms, and I know I'm not.

If I were dead, I wouldn't be seeing this, I'm sure of it.

Suddenly, sounds come rushing back, seemingly louder than ever.

Rose's shout makes the pounding in my head throb harder. A second later, Royce is standing over me, his foot poised over my face. Before I can comprehend that I need to move, Rose tackles him down to the ground.

Staggering to my feet, I watch Rose deliver punches and kicks with a look of fierce determination and anger on her face. She watches him carefully, studying his movements and therefore is able to detect how he's going to move.

Vaguely, I notice she's murmuring something as she fights, but it's too low for me to hear.

I want to jump in and help, but I know I'll be more of a hindrance than a help. Instead, I wait on the sidelines, ignoring my aching body and prepare myself to jump in, should she need me.

When attempting to land a punch on the underside of his chin—which I know would knock him out—Royce dodges it, sending Rose tumbling to the ground. I reach out and attempt to balance her before rushing forward, hoping I can knock him down long enough so we can run out into the street and hopefully get some help.

With a firm punch to his nose, I watch as he staggers back, touching the blood dripping down his chin and gazing at his fingers. He looks confused and almost mesmerized by the sight; staring at them in concentration as if they hold the secrets to the universe.

Confused, but willing to take advantage of his distracted state, I take slow steps backward, reaching for Rose. Immediately her hand grasps mine, and we look at each other, sharing a matching glance of confusion.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Not wanting to find out, we continue backing out of the alley, keeping our eyes on the guy studying his bloody fingers. Rose lightly jerks on my hand, nodding once toward Royce, before taking a glance over her shoulder.

Before I can shout, Royce has snapped out of his trance and is charging at us.

With an almost inhuman roar, he pushes Rose to the side, and she falls on the ground, her head knocking against the concrete. I can barely scream out her name before I'm pushed against the unforgiving brick wall, wincing as my head hits it. "You," he says, his voice low and gritty. He pauses, swallowing thickly as he shakes his head, his narrowed eyes darting everywhere around me.

I'm closer than I ever want to be to him, but it allows me the chance to see his face. Now, I definitely know something isn't right. He's perspiring heavily, large beads of sweat rolling down his face like tears. His eyes are completely dark, way too dilated to be normal. The skin underneath his eyes is a dark purple, standing out against his ghastly complexion.

There's a tremor in his hand as he squeezes my throat, and though it's not hard enough to cut off my air supply, it's enough to make me uncomfortable.

I wriggle, hoping to get enough space between our bodies so I can kick him, but he slams me back. Luckily, I move my head forward, so it doesn't make contact with the wall again.

"Shut up! I'm the one here, not … it! Shut up! I … here!" He screams, spit flying from his mouth. His eyes are darting all over the place, his free hand swatting away invisible flies. He mutters under his breath before shaking his head, his eyes now focusing on me.

I grimace as he leans toward me, shaking his head. "You are going to be fun to play with. Perhaps better than Rosalie. She was a fighter, but you've got more … spunk." His free hand slides down the front of my body, and I swallow back the bile threatening to erupt. "I won't be interrupted here, unlike the last time."

I want to dispute his words, but so far, no one has come out to investigate, even though we've made plenty of noise.

"Get off me," I spit out, trying to hit him wherever I can. But with my position, I can't deliver a firm enough punch.

He laughs. "I'm gonna have some fun."

"Oh, yeah?" I grunt, still wriggling as much as I can. "With what? A board game? Cards? Because it sure as hell isn't with anything you have."

His lip curls up as he backhands me across the face. Blood fills my mouth as I bite my tongue and a warm trickle bursts from my lip and down my chin. The taste reminds me of the bet Jasper had made against me when I was five; he had dared me to fit as many pennies in my mouth as I could. In the end, I had managed to get twenty-one coins in before I threw up.

I had never tasted anything so horrible until I got a tooth knocked out a few months later when I thought using my roller skates in the house was a good idea.

It was then, I had something to compare the penny taste to.

Blood.

Ever since then, it always brought up that same sick feeling.

My mouth waters as Royce smirks and makes a move to rip my shirt.

To give himself more room, he takes a few seconds to position himself, and I see my opportunity. Cocking my arm back, I aim for the underside of his chin and give it all I have. The awkward snap of his neck and head causes his body to fall heavily to the ground.

_How does that feel, asshat? _

I turn, aiming for Rose, but Royce reaches out and grabs my ankle, gripping it tightly. I fall onto my palms, the skin breaking open.

_What does it take to keep him down? _

Turning to look behind me, once again, I see Royce doesn't seem very coherent; he's shaking his head; a puzzled expression on his face as he locks eyes with me. His confused gaze shifts to my leg as I attempt to kick myself free, but he tightens his hold to a painful level.

I groan out a muffled scream as I feel the bone of my ankle shift slightly, which motivates me to kick at him harder. I have no idea if a messed-up human can break an ankle this way, but I don't want to find out.

Royce's eyes stare at something over my shoulder, a slow uneasy grin appearing on his face as he nods and pulls me toward him. My hands flail outwards, attempting to grasp at anything to keep me where I am, but there's nothing but concrete.

My fingernails scrape against the ground, the painful pressure causing my nails to tremble and push upward with each inch of uneven gravel. I feel the hardened surfaces begin to lift, a stinging pain shocking up through my fingers and into my hands.

Screeching, I spin onto my back, putting all of my effort in fighting off Royce as he drags me.

His hands harshly grasp my legs, my thighs, and my hips, going upward with unforgiving gropes. His fingertips reach the hem of my shirt, pulling at it as an animalistic grunt leaves his lips. Leaning down, I bite down on his hand, feeling his flesh give way under my teeth.

He howls in pain, twisting away from me, I turn to the opposite side and kick behind me, hearing him howl again as he curls into a ball away from me, whimpering.

A burst of wind and a sudden roar has me freezing, looking up in shock as Royce is picked up by the collar of his shirt and tossed to the opposite side of the alley, into the darkness. Above me stands a tense individual, their hands balled into fists, breathing heavily.

My eyes adjust, and the person standing above me becomes clearer.

Edward.

Slowly, I stand, swallowing thickly and trembling at the sight of him. His eyes are black as the night around us, his jaw taut, his lips curled slightly over his teeth. His hands are clenching and releasing at his sides as he takes in deep breaths through his nose.

Thank goodness that look isn't directed at me. I think I'd wet myself if he ever looked this pissed at me.

"Edward—" I start, his name coming out shaky with nerves.

"Bella," he says, my name tense and sharp. "Take Rosalie and go."

"What are you going to do?"

"The less you know, the better," he says, a sinister edge to his voice, his eyes never leaving Royce's unmoving form.

Despite the hammering of my heart and everything within me telling me to run the other way, I step in front of Edward, looking into his eyes.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," I say, shaking my head slightly. "He's not worth having on your conscious."

He looks surprised for a moment before a burst of laughter leaves his lips, startling me. I jump, and he frowns, his hand reaching for me, but he drops it when he sees me flinch.

"I haven't given you much reason to trust me, but don't fear me. I would _never_ hurt you."

I give a little nervous laugh. He's right; I have no reason to trust him, but I can't control the fear soaring through my blood at this moment. Though I'm not sure how much of the fear I have is directed toward him, or the fact that Rose and I were attacked and she's still unconscious.

Plus, my fingers are throbbing from being raked across concrete; I can only imagine what they look like.

Royce groans and Edward stiffens, pulling me behind him. Swallowing thickly, I yank my arm from his grasp, squeezing my eyes closed as my body flares in pain where Royce had grabbed me earlier. Edward's touch wasn't as harsh or demanding as Royce's had been, but at the moment, all I can see and feel is Royce.

Edward doesn't seem to notice my reaction as steps in front of me, his eyes narrowed into slits at the scum near his feet.

"How sweet," Royce grumbles, blood coming from between his lips. "You two … will burn together with the rest of them! You little bitch … I'm the one here!"

"Shut up," Edward snarls. "You're finished."

"I'm not scared," he slurs. "I'll have her. Just like …"

Before he can finish, Edward has bent down, slamming Royce's head into the brick wall, making me jump. He leans forward, whispering in his ear. Whatever he says has Royce's eyes widening as he begins to struggle in vain against Edward's grip.

Edward pulls him back once more, and I scream out his name. As much as I hate Royce, he doesn't deserve death. He deserves to pay for his crime and not get off easy.

Edward looks at me from over his shoulder, and I shake my head, a desperate feeling bubbling up in my chest.

"Don't do it. Please." My voice is small and weak, the words shaking as they fall from my tongue.

With a heavy sigh and pained expression, Edward steps back, his eyes darting to something over my shoulder.

Emmett is at Rose's side, kneeling next to her, a worried and panicked expression on his face as he tries to wake her.

Edward steps toward me, his hand reaching out. Once more, I flinch, and he hesitates, instead holding his arm out ahead of him, escorting me toward Rose and his brother.

Kneeling next to Emmett, I grasp Rose's hand and move my fingers toward her wrist, feeling the steady pulse thrumming under my fingertips.

"She hit her head," I tell him. "Her pulse is strong, though. I think she'll be okay."

He nods once, his face grim. "You okay?"

"Yeah. We need to call the police." I wave toward Royce, now on his back as he shakes and cries, mumbling incoherently, his pallor paler than before.

Emmett's expression turns dark as he stalks forward, kicking Royce in the side. "I told you to stay away from Rose. I told you to stay away from Bella."

He reaches down to pick him up, and I scramble up to stop him. Shaking his head, Edward steps in front of me, holding his hands out like I'm a frightened animal.

"Stay here, please," he whispers, looking down at me with a pensive look on his face, along with something else I can't quite place. I blink in surprise at this, trying to figure what this look means, but suddenly the world around me starts to spin as my head throbs viciously. My stomach rolls and I stagger backward, feeling my feet trip over Rose's legs.

Quickly, Edward reaches for me, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. Realizing our closeness, he pulls back slightly but doesn't let me go. Instead, his fingers gently massage the tops of my hips and lower back, staring intently at me.

For a moment, all I can feel is Royce's bruising touch. Clenching my eyes closed, I shake my head back and forth rapidly, my heart thundering in my ears as I attempt to push my assailant.

"Bella, open your eyes. Look at me," a strong but gentle voice commands.

Still locked in hurtful touches, I continue to shake my head, pushing with all of my strength.

Rough brick scratching my back has my eyes popping open, gasping breaths escaping my mouth. Edward stands in front of me, hands outstretched but not touching.

"You're safe now, Bella. I promise you."

Not comprehending his words, I continue to gasp, my vision and the world around me shaking violently. Momentarily, I wonder if we're having an earthquake, but it's not until I start descending toward the ground that I realize _I'm _the one shaking.

"Breathe, Bella," Edward urges forcefully. "Breathe."

My lungs start to burn, and the edges of my vision begin to go dark. A low, frustrated growl meets my ears, and I look at Edward in shock, wondering why he's so pissed. Looking at him, however, I see he's merely worried, not angry.

"Watch my chest," he tells me, taking in a slow, steady breath. "I won't touch you, okay? But watch me. Copy me."

Over and over he takes in deep, steady breaths, waiting until I comply before continuing.

Slowly, things begin to calm and ease, and I feel extreme lethargy sweep through my system, making my body fold in on itself like a cooked noodle.

"I'm so tired." My words are weak and sluggish sounding, but it's all I can manage with the pain radiating from head to toe.

"I know," he murmurs, stepping closer to me. "Can I … can I wrap an arm around you? To support your weight?"

As soon as I nod, Edward is there, enclosing his arm around my waist and shifting all of my weight onto him. Unable to do anything else, I lay my head against his shoulder, allowing my body to droop heavily.

Surprisingly, I don't feel uncomfortable or awkward. It feels … comforting.

_It must be shock. Right? _

"You're a bastard!" Emmett snarls, throwing Royce into a grouping of garbage cans, the metallic clang of them hitting the concrete makes me cringe and my head throb. The low keening wail that leaves Royce as he falls has me cringing further into Edward's side.

Edward's arm tightens around me slightly as he shifts us, so his back is toward his brother and Royce, but I don't miss the dark low chuckle that rumbles through his chest.

"Bella?" Rose croaks. She calls my name again, her panic increasing as she becomes more alert.

I gasp and maneuver out of Edward's grip, rushing toward her, gathering all of the strength I can muster.

"Are you okay?"

"I feel horrible. Everything … spins," she groans. She tries to stand, but I push her back down, quietly telling her she needs to stay put. "Ow. Careful; everything on me hurts," she whimpers. "What about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

A look of disbelief flashes over her features. "Yeah, right. You look _so _pale like you're gonna vomit at any moment and you're bruised to all hell!" Moving my shirt aside, her eyes widen at the limited sight of dark welts already popping up on me. Her breathing stutters as she takes it all in, ending on my hands. "Oh, Bella, your hands," she softly says, gently caressing my bleeding fingernails.

"Emmett, stop!" Alice's voice shouts, startling us. From the entrance of the alley, she rushes past us in a blur, jumping on Emmett's back, whispering furiously in his ear.

"He deserves it," Emmett growls, attempting to get her off, but she holds on, shaking her head and whispering something else as Edward comes to stand on his other side.

Jasper comes skidding to a stop next to us, gasping for breath as he falls to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic as he takes in our appearance.

"What happened? Are you guys, okay? Talk to me!" Jasper places one hand on each of our shoulders and pulls us closer to him while trying to scoot us away from the alley and toward the sidewalk. Rose whimpers at the touch, hissing as she jerks her shoulder back.

Lurching away from him, my back scratches against the brick wall, the pain in my body intensifying to an alarming degree. Jasper's hand remains frozen mid-air, shock, and confusion filling his face. At his side, Rose gazes knowingly, a sad smile on her lips.

Emmett's curses and the loud, metallic clanging echoing throughout the night followed by the subsequent groans and cries have the world shaking around me once again. Underneath the wheezing cries leaving my lips, I hear my name being called, the upset tone doing nothing to help calm me.

Placing my hands over my ears, I fold my body in half, leaning my head between my knees as I breathe deeply, focusing on how Edward had helped me earlier.

Vaguely, I feel Rose scramble up and hear Jasper's protests and his fading voice as he follows after her.

Now that I'm alone and I'm not as crowded, I release the full-on sob bubbling up my throat. I cry into my knees, turning to the side as I vomit, ending my sickness by coughing violently, expelling everything I've eaten this evening.

Taking slow, deep breaths, I find my nerves settle and even out with each passing second.

It's then I hear Rose's shouting.

Rose stands stiffly in front of Emmett, her hands on his chest as she attempts to push him backward, but he doesn't budge. He remains still, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his eyes focused on Royce's prone form. Edward and Alice stand on each of Emmett's sides, holding on to his arms.

"Please don't, Emmett. He's not worth getting in trouble for. Please, don't do it." She stares up at him with teary eyes, her voice cracking and hoarse, but she manages to push out the words. "Please. Just step away. Walk away. Walk away with me."

Emmett regards her words for a moment before grunting and stepping back, guiding Rose away from Royce and toward Alice.

Gently, Alice places a hand on Rose's arm and whispers something to her. Rose nods and steps back, but she flinches as Emmett kicks Royce's stomach, emitting a deep groan from him. Emmett chuckles darkly, leaning down to whisper something to Royce.

His words are too low for me to hear, but whatever was said has Royce laughing, spitting blood from his mouth.

"It won't stick. I'll be back."

"You're not as smooth as you think you are. There's something you have that'll get you locked away, and I'll find it, I promise you."

Royce mumbles something before shouting his next words. "Never … never find it." He pauses, spitting out a cackling laugh. "I have it locked away … a special _presentation _of all of my victories … and failures," he slurs, his head rolling back and forth on the ground. "I'll be back to watching my victory! You'll never take me! I'll be back for all of you! You'll all pay! "

Rose gasps, shaking her head; her wide eyes trained on Royce, who smirks at her. A second later, she begins to sob, covering her face as a gut-wrenching wail leaves her. I start to slide up the wall, wincing as the rough texture scrapes up my back further, but I push through it, my focus solely on Rose.

Jasper, being closer, draws her to him, his arms encompassing her. She clings to him tightly, her hands fisting his shirt as she buries her face in his shoulder. Jasper's face pales, and his mouth drops open, his eyes wide and horrified.

I hear Rose ramble something about a video, but I'm too far away to make out what else is being said.

Jasper holds her tighter, whispering in her ear and prompting her nod.

They start to leave, but Emmett steps in their path, holding his hand out to Rose.

Suddenly, Jasper's demeanor shifts.

The worried and anxious look is replaced by one of frustration and slight hostility. He glares at Emmett, turning Rose away from him as he shakes his head firmly. Emmett's jaw clenches, and he turns away, facing the opposite wall. Jasper doesn't seem to care, his focus only on Rose.

_Weird. What's up with that? _

I can't focus on that, however. Soon, the dark alley is illuminated with red and blue flashing lights a second before Edward announces their arrival.

"The police are here." Edward's eyes land on me, still leaning against the wall. Slowly, he walks over, his hand twitching at his side like he can't decide what to do with it. After a moment of deliberation, he holds it out to me.

For the longest moment, I look from his hand to his face before I swallow back the apprehension, reminding myself that he isn't Royce.

Hesitantly, I place my hand in Edward's, watching his fingers delicately sweep over my bruised ones. Smiling tightly, he leads me to the police car nearest the sidewalk and steps back as Jasper, and a stiffly- walking Rose come to stand next to me—the latter still clinging to his shirt with white knuckles.

Her face is blank and emotionless, her eyes staring straight ahead at nothing at all.

"Talk to her," Jasper mouths, nodding toward her frozen form.

"Hey, Rose," I murmur, gently sweeping my hand down her arm. She twitches, her body jerking toward me. "You're gonna be okay, you hear me? This is it, what we've been waiting for. Royce is going to jail."

A commotion from my right draws my attention to the police officers handcuffing a thrashing Royce, leading him away, past the crowd of onlookers who have started talking among themselves. A few of them are looking at Rose and me, their fingers pointing between us. I ignore them, turning my head away, so I don't get angry at their whispering and gossip.

Edward, who is standing on my other side, tenses, his head snapping up and looking toward something over my head.

"Em," he says. When he gains his brother's attention, he gestures and they both turn to stare, their faces glowering and tense.

I follow their line of sight, trying to see what has them so pissed off, but I see nothing out of the ordinary.

At first.

In the back of the curious crowd stands a man half-hidden by the shadows. It's hard to make out the specific details of his face, but there's one thing I can see _very _clearly.

Even in the dull streetlights lining the road, I can see his eyes are a deep ruby, shimmering in the darkness like a cat.

A cold chill slivers down my spine and I take half a step back, bumping into Jasper's side.

"Bella? You okay?" He steps into my line of sight, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Yeah," I say, a humorless laugh escaping me as I look for the odd man I had seen, but he's nowhere to be found.

"What are you looking at?"

Edward steps up to my side, seemingly as curious about my answer as Jasper appears to be.

I point toward where I saw the guy. "That guy—"

"What guy?"

"There was someone standing in the back of the crowd. He had creepy red eyes."

Edward looks in the direction I point, his nostrils flaring. "You were seeing—"

"I was _not _seeing things."

He huffs. "Someone having _red _eyes? Come on." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "They were probably just contacts. They come in a lot of colors nowadays."

"Contacts," I repeat, my voice dull. "Really?"

"Really. I wear them all the time."

I raise an eyebrow at this, pondering the truthfulness in his words. Somehow, I doubt he's been wearing contacts all this time, but I could be wrong.

"Hmm." I eye him skeptically for a moment. "There's a lot of weird things about you, Edward."

"Like what?"

"Too many to name, but I'm thinking of starting a list."

He tries to look exasperated, but I can see a smile pulling at his lips. "Everything you _think _is strange has a reasonable explanation, I can assure you."

"Isn't that what someone strange _would _say?"

His smile grows into a full grin as he shrugs a shoulder. "Perhaps."

I give a small smile in return but immediately wince as my lip throbs.

"You need to have that looked at," Jasper remarks, looking at me with concern.

"Where's Rose?" I ask when I notice she's no longer standing with us.

Jasper points behind him. "Giving her statement. I was asked to give her some—son of a bitch!"

My eyebrows shoot up at the anger in his tone and the glare he's currently giving to Emmett, who is standing beside Rose, his arm loosely wrapped around her blanketed shoulder. In her hands, she's holding a cup of something, slowly sipping as she nods and speaks to the police officer. To my surprise, she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, it looks as if she's leaning into him slightly.

"What's your problem? I thought you liked Emmett."

Jasper shoots an uncomfortable look at Edward but continues "I do. I just … don't like how he _demanded _I hand her over to him. She's not property. She's extremely vulnerable right now and doesn't need someone putting a _claim _on her and trying to get to her while her defenses are down."

"Do you think that's what he's doing?" I look at Rose and Emmett again, and while their position _looks _intimate, I can tell it's more of a comforting gesture rather than a romantic one, but I keep this observation to myself.

"I don't know, but wrapping an arm around her? Whispering to her? She's made it clear she doesn't want anything to do with him. You'd think he would support her decision instead of getting close to her when she's not herself."

To his credit, Edward doesn't get angry or lash out at Jasper. He gives him an understanding look and turns away, apparently choosing not to get involved. It's a good strategy and very respectful toward his brother, but a part of me wonders if Jasper doesn't have a point.

I want to question Edward and see if he agrees with Jasper, but I don't get the chance. An officer walks up, a notepad in hand.

"Miss Swan? We need to get your statement."

"Su-sure." Immediately, I close my eyes and clench my teeth. I thought I was past this, having been calm for the past ten minutes, but apparently not.

Twenty minutes later, I've given the police my statement. I had to repeat myself multiple times, since I stuttered, and had to be talked down from a handful of panic attacks during my recounting of events. Luckily, the officer was extremely understanding and helped me through it, talking gently and guiding me back on track.

By the time I'm done, exhaustion begins to settle into my bones like lead. The muscles in my legs are shaking with the effort to keep myself upright. Unconsciously and blindly, I lean against the person nearest to me. When I look up, I see it's Edward, standing stiffly with his jaw tight as he looks at me, but he doesn't say anything.

Regardless, I step away with my heart in my throat and head for Rose. Upon seeing me, she steps away from Emmett, who doesn't look particularly thrilled but remains silent.

His eyes narrow and his jaw juts forward, his lips in a thin line. My eyebrows raise high on my forehead, and involuntarily, I shiver, taking a step back, wondering if he's going to attack.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward glide past me, standing in front of his brother, hissing something too low for me to hear.

I want to watch this interaction play out, wondering what the hell Emmett's problem is, but Rose steps into my line of vision, looking at me from head to toe.

Carefully, she hands me a cup of water, telling me to sip it slowly. Bringing the Styrofoam to my lips, I take a cautious taste. The cool liquid feels good against my parched mouth, and before I know what's happened, the cup is empty, and my stomach clenches uncomfortably.

"Are you okay? No BS answers," she tells me.

Doing a half shrug and nod, I attempt to smile, hoping to set her fears to rest, but she sees right through me.

With a heavy sigh, she brushes the hair out of my face, her fingers pausing over a particularly sensitive area as she pulls me in for a hug. I rest my head on her shoulder, shooting Emmett and Edward a curious glance as they hover around us, their spat seemingly forgotten as they gaze around us vigilantly. Before I can comment, a woman in a blue uniform walks up to us with a bulky bag in her hand.

"Hi, I'm Darla; an EMT. I need to check you ladies out."

"Can't we just go home?" Rose asks but immediately winces as she shifts on her feet.

"_That's _why you can't go home," Darla pointedly says. "Come on. I'll help you to the ambulance."

"Why can't we go to our family doctor?"

Before Rose can reply, Emmett begins arguing with her. I want to tell her she needs to go too, but I think both of them are doing a sufficient job for me.

"I have a headache," Rose snaps, rubbing her temples. "Can't you just be quiet?"

"All the more reason to be looked over," Emmett tensely replies.

"You're not the boss of me." Rose's eyes narrow and her jaw clinches, the tendons of her neck sticking out. Heavy breaths come from her nostrils as she fumes; if she were able to breathe fire, she'd look like a dragon.

"Just in case something is wrong. Think of your health; you were unconscious and hit your head," he counters, unaffected by her mood.

"Please, Rose. For me," I quietly beg.

Rose immediately turns sheepish. "Fine. Will you be okay?"

I nod and watch as she rigidly wobbles off toward the nearest ambulance.

Darla points to another ambulance, telling me to go there to be looked over. I nod, but have no plans of doing as she requests. Rose is the main priority, but apparently, I have no choice. Edward softly slides his hand under my elbow, pulling me toward the ambulance, his eyes, now a lot darker than they were earlier, scan the area as we walk.

With the way he's hovering like a mother hen, I'm tempted to tell him to back off, but as much as I hate to admit it, Edward _did_ save us; there was no way I could have fought Royce off long enough to get Rose and myself to safety, so I should thank him.

As I start to speak, another EMT, whose name tag reads Brian, comes over and gives me a quick look over. Edward watches with rapt attention and takes a half-step forward whenever a particularly sensitive spot is touched.

"You're pretty badly bruised, and the knot on your head is something that needs attention. Unfortunately, there's only so much I can do here, so you'll need to go to the hospital," Brian says, stepping back.

Edward steps forward, his hand barely brushing by my knee. "My father mainly works at Forks General. Is there any way Bella and Rosalie can go there?"

Normally, I would be pissed he's speaking for me, but I do like the idea of seeing Dr. C, as opposed to some stranger who will spend five seconds with me and probably be as gentle a cactus. Plus, I know Dr. C will be thorough and look after Rose and me properly.

Brian shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry. They need to be looked at immediately."

"I'll call my father, then; he'll come here."

Brian sighs, looking agitated, but he manages to conceal it in his voice. "What's his name?"

"Carlisle Cullen."

The irritation fades, replaced with a fond and friendly smile. "Oh, Dr. Cullen? That won't be a problem at all."

"Why wouldn't it be a problem for Dr. Cullen to come to PA?" I ask once Edward and I are alone. "Is it normal for doctors to work at multiple hospitals?"

"My father works at the hospital in Port Angeles as well as Forks. He does consults and helps out when it's needed."

Wow. I if I had any doubts about Dr. C's abilities they'd be gone now. You don't work at two hospitals in the same area if you're not good … especially for consults.

"Cool." I pause and clear my throat awkwardly. This is the perfect time to thank him for his help, and I have no idea how to do this. In theory, it's easy; you say _"thank you,"_ and the other person says, _"you're welcome."_ Despite the simplicity of the situation, I still feel awkward and nervous.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Thank you ... for … you know." I wave my hand toward the alley, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. The whole in the bottom gets bigger as I wriggle my finger in it, but I don't stop. I'm burning these clothes anyway. Plus, it's a nice distraction for me as I rush out the words. "For showing up when you did. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well … just be careful and aware of your surroundings next time. Darkened alleyways aren't a good thing to walk by."

Warmth fills my cheeks, and I fight the urge to look down at the ground like a scolded child. On the surface, it seems like he's just being helpful and giving advice, but the angry expression on his face says otherwise. I breathe deeply, trying to remain calm but with the roaring in my ears cheering me on to tell him off, it's hard to do.

I'll admit, it _was _very stupid of me not to pay attention to where we were, but I don't need it pointed out to me.

"I didn't ask for this," I say slowly, trying to remain calm. The scab on my lip cracks open again and starts to bleed, dripping down my chin. "How was I supposed to know he would attack?"

"You pay attention to your surroundings!"

"Okay, I get it. I'm a huge fuck-up. You don't have to be such an asshole about it."

Edward's eyes zone in on my bleeding lip, and I don't fail to notice how he grimaces at the sight. I wipe my chin with my sleeve and fold my lip under my top one, the tart taste of blood hitting my tongue. It's not really pleasant, but at least Edward looks a little more comfortable.

"What's going on?" Alice inquires, her eyes narrowed at her brother. Jasper follows behind her and comes to stand next to me. He reaches for me, but wavers at the last second, looking unsure and frightened. Putting his mind to rest, I muster up enough strength and pull him into a hug, closing my eyes at the feeling of calm he releases.

"Oh, nothing," I answer, flippantly. "Edward's just pointing out the obvious."

"Which is?" Jasper hedges, looking between the two of us.

"That I'm a colossal screw-up."

"That's not … I don't … you took it … _never mind," _he growls, stalking away.

Huffing in disbelief, I turn toward Alice and Jasper. It doesn't escape my notice that's she's standing awfully close to him … so close the backs of their hands are touching.

It _does _surprise me, however, that Jasper doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he appears to be pretty comfortable for a guy who, up until yesterday, was noticeably uncomfortable whenever Alice was in a five-foot radius.

When Jasper looks my way, I raise an eyebrow and pointedly look at Alice, who looks so saddened, like someone just died.

The teasing words and questions die on the tip of my tongue. Reaching out, I poke the arm closest to me.

"Hey. You all right?"

Slowly, her head tilts toward me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as her bottom lip trembles.

"Oh, Bella. I'm so … so sorry."

I shake my head in confusion, wondering what she could possibly be sorry for. "What for?"

"For what happened."

Still confused, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

Why would she apologize for this situation? There was nothing she could have done to prevent it … unless she knew about it beforehand, which is highly unlikely. From my perspective, she never had any contact with him … and I doubt he had any with her.

Royce never looked her way longer than two seconds.

"Why—"

"Why are you apologizing?" Jasper questions, beating me to the punch. "Royce did this, not you. Did you know about it before it happened?"

"No! I had—" she trails off, a hint of frustration in her voice as she shakes her head while massaging her temple. "No. I didn't know about it."

Jasper stares at her for a long moment, his lips pinched tightly together as he thinks.

"Okay, then. There's nothing for you to feel bad about," I tell her before Jasper can say whatever is on his mind. From the intense look he has, I don't think it would be anything good.

While the words are comforting, Alice doesn't seem to take any relief in them. In fact, she looks more frustrated and upset than before.

I try to think of something to say to make her feel better, but I doubt anything will. Instead, I squeeze her hand once and smile, hoping to put her at ease.

"Well, let's not stand around here," I say, stretching lightly, but immediately regretting the action. "Let's go to the hospital and get Rose checked out."

"You need to be looked over more thoroughly too," Jasper argues.

"Sure. Come on."

Jasper jogs in front of me, blocking my path.

"I know what that means. You're going."

"I'll be okay. Now, can we go check on Rose?"

He shoots heavy looks of disappointment and annoyance at me, but I ignore him—and Alice, who is wearing a matching expression—sidesteps him, heading for the ambulance Rose is being helped into by Emmett.

"You okay?" I question.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Emmett staring at me, but when I look at him, he walks off to speak to the EMT before nodding and running off to his car.

_Weird. _

"No. My entire body aches and I feel really sick to my stomach," she says with a grimace, rubbing her stomach. "Plus, my head hurts like a bitch. I want to go home and get this night over with already."

"You going to the hospital?"

She nods, rolling her eyes. "Yeah. Come on," She says, patting the space next to her. "You're coming too." I start to argue, but she cuts me off. "Yes, you are. That asshole threw you all over that alley, and you threw up. Get in here. Do not make me drag you inside this ambulance, Isabella Marie."

I make a face at her, mimicking her words. I'm not really concerned about myself. After all, if I had been more vigilant, then I wouldn't be in this situation, would I?

"She's right, Miss," Brian says, cutting in. "You need to see a doctor as well. Dr. Cullen will be coming in to examine you."

Jasper smiles in triumph. "Ha! Four against one. Get in there."

"Fine, fine. I do feel as if a freight train hit me."

Jasper helps me into the ambulance, laughing at my scowl and ignoring my grumbles of being able to get in on my own, though I know it's the farthest thing from the truth. Once I'm inside and sitting beside Rose, who wraps a gentle arm around my shoulders, I look up, noticing Edward standing a few feet away.

The expression on his face startles me for a moment; there's not a hint of anger or frustration. Instead, there seems to be … _worry? _

_No, that's not right. He was pretty pissed. It must be a lack of light. I'm sure he's scowling at me. _

Remember his words and the tone he used, I scowl in his direction, hoping he'll melt with the force of my glare. Brian, who shuffling things around in the ambulance, catches my sour look and follows my line of sight, chuckling lightly under his breath.

"He shouldn't take his frustration out on you, but just take it easy on your boyfriend, all right? He's only worried about you. It's hard-wired in the male brain to act like a jackass when we're scared. Or least that's what my fiancée tells me." He ends with a chuckle, a fond smile on his face as he continues replacing items around us.

Rose looks between Edward and myself inquisitively, raising a questioning eyebrow. I shake my head and sputter, finally being able to adamantly spit out that Edward is _not _my boyfriend.

"Huh. Coulda fooled me," he murmurs. "All right. We'll be going shortly."

Before he closes the door, Jasper and Alice step up, and one look at their faces tells me they heard my less than eloquent response to Brian's assumption.

Underneath the worry clearly painted on Jasper's face, I can see amusement shining in his eyes and a smile starting to twitch on his lips. I level him with a hard stare, not in the mood for his teasing. Plus, Jasper has done tons of embarrassing stuff, and I have a truck-full of information ready to disperse, should I need it.

Catching my look, Jasper's amusement fades away, and he gives an apologetic look, leaning toward the two of us.

"We'll follow you."

Rose and I both nod and soon enough, the doors are closed, and we're on our way toward the hospital.

"I see they've gotten closer," she murmurs, a slight note of unpleasantness in her tone, both of us wincing as the ambulance hits a pothole. "When did that happen?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I caught them talking in Port Angeles; I don't know _what _they were talking about, but it didn't seem good. He still feels uneasy about her."

"Uneasy, how?"

Again, I shrug. "That's all he's told me."

She hums, lost in thought. "And he's fine with Emmett and Edward," she says. I say nothing because it's clear she's talking to herself as a contemplative expression crosses her features. She mumbles something to herself, her lips pursed and her fingers tapping an irregular rhythm against her thigh.

Moments later, she snaps out of her trance and gives me a slight, pained smile. "Well, he should take his time and ease into it. If he feels there's something off with her, then he should listen to it."

I eye her with suspicion, wondering why she's adamant that Jasper not rush into things. It could be Rose just being Rose, but I think there's something else there. "Is this a protective sister thing or something else?"

"I just don't want him to get hurt," she quickly says.

I stare at her, watching her fidget and grimace for a minute before she blurts out the rest of her confession. "And Uncle Charlie and I have a bet going. We both think they'll end up dating. If Jasper waits until the end of next month or later to ask her out, I get twenty bucks. If he does it before then, I have to wash Uncle Charlie's car for a month."

Chuckling, I shake my head and laugh more when I picture the look on Jasper's face when he finds out about this bet.

_I'll need to remember to have my camera out. It'll be hysterical! _

Rose chuckles with me, no doubt picturing the same thing I am. When our amusement dies off, Rose changes the subject.

"Why did the EMT think you and Edward are in a relationship?"

"How should I know? He was standing next to me and all of a sudden, people think we're in a relationship."

It's not the first time that's happened, though. What's up with that?

Her eyes narrow. "Really? That's all?"

"That's all," I reply easily, not wanting to get into the matter further.

Ignoring her skeptical staring, I give her an inquisitive look of my own.

"What was up with you and Emmett? You two were awfully _close._"

To my surprise, the apples of her cheeks turn deep pink, and her eyes fall to her lap. "He was … being nice. Protective." Her sweet smile fades, and just as quickly as it came, it's gone, replaced by a frown. "I saw how he was with Jasper and you; I don't like him looking at you two like that."

"Like what?"

"Like he was angry with you. Well, just angry in general."

Reaching out, I grasp her hand. "I'm sure it's nothing. He's probably just shaken, you know?"

She nods but doesn't appear to believe me. To be honest, I'm not sure I believe me either. His reaction to Jasper, who wanted to comfort his twin, was way out of character for his easy-going nature. I don't think Emmett would hurt Jasper, but why would he be so adamant _he _should be the one to comfort Rose?

Jasper was right about one thing; _we're _her family, and right now, she needs us.

As for me, I have a feeling Emmett blames me; I'm sure Edward had shared his thoughts on the situation and how he found us. I have no doubt Edward told him we were walking past the alleyway on a dimly lit sidewalk. Add in my constant antagonizing of the slimeball, I'm sure he feels it's my fault.

What's worse is, I know he's right.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **


	14. Chapter 14

**Who's excited for Halloween? I know I am. :D **

**Thank you all for your continued support of this story. It means so much! **

**This chapter is a bit of a long one, so I'll just let you get to it ... **

**Fran, Monica03 and Mr G and Me, thank you for all of your help and support. It means a lot. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

When Rose and I arrive at the hospital, we're immediately wheeled into a private room, where a nurse in her late thirties is waiting, clipboard in hand. She asks the EMTs a series of questions, writing their responses down with a quick hand.

Dr. C arrives seconds later, his white doctor's coat billowing behind him like a cape. A relieved sigh leaves him as he sees us, a small, sad smile gracing his features.

Quickly, but with softness and compassion, the nurse helps us out of the wheelchairs and onto the hospital beds, quietly asking if we're comfortable.

I can't speak for Rose, but I know I'm not. These beds aren't made for comfort.

Not wanting to complain, I merely nod and thank her as she hands our charts over to Dr. C, who begins reading at once.

"Thank you, Jackie," he murmurs as she steps out of his way, but remains close enough to help.

He steps up to us, placing a comforting hand on each of our shoulders. I flinch away, not from pain, though I have enough of that rushing through my system, but because I can't stand the memories that come through with being touched right now.

Seeing my distress, Dr. C keeps his gaze on me, making sure I can see him taking his hand away. For some reason, the action is comforting, and I find myself breathing a little easier.

"I'm sorry for what happened tonight, ladies."

"Thanks," Rose and I both say at the same time.

His eyes crinkle as he gives a small smile. "Let's get started. Who's first?"

"Bella," Rose answers before I can say anything.

"No." I refuse with a shake of my head. "You lost consciousness."

"I don't care. You're going first. Dr. Cullen, check Bella first, please. I refuse treatment until she's looked over."

Reluctantly, I nod, and Carlisle steps forward, leaning toward me slightly. "Would you prefer a female doctor to look at you?"

I debate it over before ultimately deciding not to. I know I'm in good hands with Dr. C. I trust him just as much as I trust my own parents.

"No, I'm … I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" He questions seriously. "I won't be offended."

"I'm sure."

Nodding once, he steps closer, placing rubber gloves on his hands. "All right. If you need to stop at any time, don't be afraid to tell me."

Swallowing thickly, I continuously remind myself that this is Carlisle; he wouldn't hurt me.

"I will."

"I do need to ask you a particularly sensitive question," he starts.

The reluctance and apprehension in his tone makes my back stiffen, my breathing turn shallow, and my heart gallop in my chest. Not trusting my own voice, I nod for him proceed.

"Were you sexually assaulted?"

My body painfully throbs with the memory of Royce's forceful hands, grabbing and pulling at me. All I want to do is run away and hide … and possibly take an extremely hot shower to wash away this entire evening, but that's not an option.

At least right now.

Right now, I need to be strong and get through this. The worst is now behind me.

"No. It didn't get that far."

Dr. C closes his eyes briefly, his head bowing forward as he lets out a huge breath. When his eyes are open again, relief swims through them.

"Good, that's good. Shall we begin?"

Blowing out a breath, I once again remind myself that this is Dr. C, and everything is okay at this moment in time.

He waits patiently for my nod, and when I do, he begins his examination with gentle hands. Throughout the entire process, he quietly explains what he's going to do before he does it, which is a huge comfort. I flinch as his fingers touch a particularly sensitive spot on my head and neck. Quickly, he apologizes and rattles off a series of tests in doctor-speak, which Jackie, the nurse, writes on her pad.

Once he's done, the nurse comes forward with another wheelchair, refusing my pleas to walk on my own.

"Bella, stop being difficult and get in the damn chair," Rose says from her perch.

"I'll remember that when you're in this thing."

She ignores me, focusing on Dr. C, who begins his examination, giving her the same treatment he gave me.

_She's only ignoring me because I'm right. She's ten-times more stubborn than I am when she's not feeling well._

An hour later, after a series of tests, I'm being wheeled back into the room. The nurse asks if I need help getting onto the bed, but I decline her offer and thank her, looking for Rose, who is noticeably absent. When I mention this, she tells me Rose was taken back for tests shortly after I was, and should be back soon.

A minute after the nurse leaves, there's a soft knock on the door, and Esme sticks her head in, her eyebrows pulled together and a frown on her face. Her face lights up when she sees me, but it quickly falls once she sees the bruises I'm sure to be sporting at the moment.

"Hello, sweetheart. Are you up for company?"

"Yeah, sure. Come on in."

She enters the room fluidly, coming to stand by my side. Gently, she slides an arm around my shoulder and hugs me, placing a kiss to the crown of my head. Reveling in her motherly aura, I lean against her, wishing my own mother was here as well.

For now, Esme is a good start.

Jasper, Alice, Edward, and Emmett follow shortly after, shuffling into the room in a broken line. Jasper comes to stand by my free side, hesitating before he puts a hand on my shoulder. At my smile, he squeezes, staring at me for a long moment, asking me without words, how I'm doing.

I do a combination of a shrug and nod. I'm doing as well as I can, considering the circumstances.

"Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie are with Rose," he whispers to me. "They came in shortly after you left for your tests."

Exhaling softly, I nod in acknowledgment, anxious to see them.

By the door, the Cullen's are lined up underneath mood/pain chart with a variety of different faces ranging from neutral to grumpy. Humorously, they could be the living embodiment of this chart.

Emmett looks pissed off, his eyes darting to me and the floor every few seconds; with each passing look, his lips thin and his eyes darken a little more. I shiver involuntarily, shifting in the wheelchair. The squeak of the chair seems loud in the small room, and I wince against it.

Standing next to him is Edward, who is unabashedly staring at me, his head slightly tilted to the side. I wish I knew for certain what he was feeling, but he has a blank look on his face. The only time his expression changes is when he steals quick glances at his brother. Whatever is going on there, he doesn't look very pleased.

Alice wrings her hands together, looking like she's going to burst into tears at any moment. Her mouth opens and closes several times, making her look like a fish. The mental image of Alice in a fishbowl, swimming around enthusiastically is just too much for me, and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing.

My humor vanishes when Emmett speaks.

"What's funny? There's nothing humorous about this situation."

I blink in shock, surprised such an angry tone has come from him. Normally, he has a very kind voice, but right now, he's lethal.

On my right side, Jasper's grip tightens, and I can feel the rage starting to build within him. Whatever Emmett's problem is with me, I don't want it to interfere with his friendship with Jasper, but it appears the lines are crossing whether I want them to or not.

"I never said there was."

"You—"

"Emmett," Esme snarls, her eyes blazing and her lips pressed tightly together. She looks extremely pissed and ready to go into battle, which is surprising.

I've never seen her so angry; it makes me glad to know she's on my side. And now, I also know where Edward gets his temper. Sure, he and Esme aren't related by blood, but with family, blood or not, some things don't matter.

After a few deep breaths, Esme turns to me, her face now relaxed and calm, though her eyes are still hard. "How are you doing, Bella?"

"I'm okay," I reply, slow to take my eyes off Emmett. I'm not too sure he won't charge at me. "Just waiting for Rose."

"She's gone for testing," she supplies. I know this since the nurse and Jasper just told me, but I nod and thank her anyway. I know she's simply trying to be helpful.

"Bella—"

"Nope," I interrupt Alice as she starts to speak, seemingly finding her words … and I know what she's going to say, "Don't want to hear it. I already told you, it wasn't your fault."

A pained look crosses Alice's face as Emmett mumbles something I can't distinguish, but I can take a guess at what it is by the glares being shot to him by his family.

Edward gives his sister his undivided attention, turning his back on his brother, who grumbles angrily.

Alice's despondent look fades into one of anger as she glares at her brother, obviously hearing whatever he had said. The tension in the air grows thicker, and suddenly, I feel like I'm burning up from all of the angry looks being thrown around the room. Jasper and I shift, and I eye the door, wondering if it would be rude if I just booked it out of here.

The door opens, and Rose is wheeled in by Dr. C, laughing at something he's said. It stops abruptly as she undoubtedly feels the tension in the room. Dr. C immediately locks in on Emmett, a deep frown on his face, and his eyes darkening. It's kind of surprising, considering I've never seen him look so displeased before.

Rose's eyes dart from person to person, lingering on Emmett, who hasn't lifted his gaze from the ground. When she looks at Jasper and me, she rises from the wheelchair, coming to lean next to me. Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes narrow at the group of Cullens standing opposite of us and when she speaks, her voice is hard and cold.

"What's going on?"

No one answers and Rose's hands curl into her upper arms, the skin turning pink the tighter she grips. The longer the silence continues, the more aggravated Rose gets, and soon, her foot is tapping against the metal of the bed, creating a loud, irregular rhythm in the room.

From the pained look on Emmett's face, the sound is like nails on a chalkboard to him.

Dr. C clears his throat, stepping in the middle, his attention on us. "Ladies, I have your test results. Why doesn't everyone give us some privacy," he says, looking pointedly at his children.

Esme smiles softly at her husband and us, stopping to give him a quick kiss before shooing her children from the room. Jasper trails after them and is long gone before Rose or I can tell him he can stay.

Once the door closes, Dr. C opens the file in his hands. "Okay. I put a rush on your tests; being well-liked has its advantages." He winks, and it doesn't escape my notice that Rose blushes afterward. I snicker, and she gives me a fake glare, lightly pinching my shoulder.

"Okay, let's begin. Bella, you have a minor concussion, some serious bruising, and obviously damaged fingernails. You'll be extremely sore for quite a bit, but you'll be okay. I'm sending you home with some prescriptions to help with pain and a light medication for anxiety, should you need it," he rushes to add when he sees me about to argue.

Knowing to argue is futile, I nod.

"Miss Whitlock, you have some bruising and the skin will be tender to touch, but it should go away in a few weeks. You have a minor sprain on your left wrist; just keep it wrapped and iced. I'll have a nurse come in shortly and do that for you. You also have a minor concussion, so ultimately, you're in much of the same boat as Bella. I'm sending you home with the same prescriptions and some care sheets for your parents."

"Will we have to stay here overnight?"

Dr. C taps a finger against his lips. "Ordinarily, due to your injuries, I would say yes, but I think you two would fight me on that." He chuckles when we both nod adamantly. "I thought so. As an alternative, I'll be staying with you at your house tonight."

Gaping, we stare at him, wondering why he would make such an offer.

"You've both been through a lot this evening. Sure, I could admit you, but that won't help you relax, and you _need _to relax in order to heal. Besides, Charlie promised me a poker game," he jokes.

His joke takes me by surprise.

I knew Dad had poker games every month with a few guys from the Res and the station, but I never knew Dr. C was joining them. Normally, Dad gossips about everyone there and who _might _be coming, but he hasn't said a word about Dr. C attending.

For some reason, I can't see Dr. C being there. He doesn't seem like the type to sit around for hours on end playing cards and gossiping.

Instead of focusing on the strangeness of Dr. C at my Dad's poker game, I focus on the present moment as Rose and I thank him, gratitude seeping through every word.

He waves us off, smiling softly. "Think nothing of it. I'm happy to help my favorite family."

"Where are Mom and Dad?" I question when there's a pause in the conversation.

"I asked them to get us some water. Aunt Renee was driving me crazy," Rose mumbles, rubbing her temple.

I snicker, knowing Mom was most likely fawning all over her. My humor fades as I realize she'll most likely do the same to me when I see her.

_Great. _

Dr. C reaches out and pats my arm. "Moms are like that. She's just—"

A loud shout from the hallway silences Dr. C's words. Rose walks to the door, throwing it open so hard it hits the wall and bounces off, nearly hitting her in the back. Thankfully for her, Dr. C manages to catch it and follows her out, with me lagging behind.

In the hallway, we find Jasper glaring at Emmett, and surprisingly, Alice and Edward are standing beside Jasper, identical expressions on their faces.

"Okay, enough. What is going on? Don't give me any BS answers, either. I know something is going on and I want to know what."

She's speaking to everyone, but she's staring at Emmett, her lips pressed together so tightly, they nearly disappear. When it's clear all he's going to do is stare at the floor, she turns to Jasper.

"Jasper?"

"Let's move this somewhere else," Dr. C offers quickly. He pointedly looks at a group of people down the hall, watching with curious eyes. "This is a hospital, not a talk show."

_Yeah, don't make too big of a scene or they'll put you up on the ninth floor. I probably belong there, though._

Once more, we file back into the room and Rose waves impatiently for Jasper to continue, tapping her foot on the floor.

"Emmett is blaming—"

"I'm not … look, I was worried, okay?" Emmett interrupts. "I'm still worried. You're hurt, Rosalie."

Her head tilts to the right as she peers at him through narrowed eyelids. "Well, I'm fine. Your father just got done telling me I'm okay. A minor concussion, a little bruising … nothing major."

"Yeah, no thanks to some people."

The entire room stills at Emmett's murmured words, and every eye turns on him, mine included. I want to look around, to see if everyone in the room shares his thoughts, but I keep my gaze locked on Emmett, unable to look away.

Beside me, Rose stiffens, and I can hear her teeth clicking together as she snaps her mouth closed. Seconds later, she's taking slow, deep breaths to calm herself down, but it's not working. From the corner of my eye, I can see her face turning extremely red, which can't be good for her injured state.

Emmett looks away from Rose's angry gaze, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a huff.

"Look, I didn't—"

"I didn't do it on purpose," I snarl, feeling my face flame and my temper rise. I feel like I should record those words since I've had to say them so much.

Do people really think I wanted Rose to get injured? I would never want Rose or anyone else to be hurt in any way because of me; in fact, I would rather take on their pain tenfold, just so they would never feel any kind of agony. again.

Apparently, that's not the vibe I give off.

Rose grabs my left hand, and Jasper grabs my right, both of them squeezing tightly three times. Their silent _I love you, _something we've done since we kids, makes me a feel a little better—but not by much.

"You wanna say that again, _Emmett_?" Rose says, spitting his name out like a curse. He flinches, but remains silent, staring at me for longer than I'm comfortable with. It's only when he looks at Rose that I release the breath I've been holding.

"No," he mumbles, quickly averting his eyes back to the floor.

_These Cullens can be scary, but Rose is scarier. _

"It's already out there," Rose snaps, waving an impatient hand through the air. The longer he's silent, the redder her face gets. "Might as well let it out now. So do it."

The last three words are spit out through tight lips. Emmett remains silent until the words come tumbling from his lips.

"Bella shouldn't have antagonized him! If she would have left well enough al—"

"Stop right there," Rose warns with a glare and narrowed eyes.

"No, I'm going to speak. Royce is dangerous and Bella, you should have known that."

"I screwed up, I know. But you don't know him!" I explode, my voice too loud in the small room. Everyone winces, but I don't stop. "You don't know Royce and you sure as hell don't know what's happened between us in the past. You've been here a few months; Rose and I have put up him for years. _Years, _Emmett. He's had it out for Rose since freshman year and me since I kicked him in the balls _because _of what happened freshman year. Eventually, he would have done _something._"

"Do you know that? Really? You could have ignored him and maybe …" he trails off, shaking his head. "Rose got hurt because of this."

The unspoken words are clear.

_Because of you. _

A loud gasp fills the room, followed by a series of shallow shuddering of breathing. If someone doesn't help this person, I have a feeling they're going to pass out. It's only when I glance around at the concerned and alarmed expressions aimed at me, I realize _I'm _the person in need of help.

Several hands reach for me, but I push them away, resting my hands on my knees as I attempt to control the burning in my lungs as the room erupts in a fury of chaos around me.

Throbbing emits from my chest, and gently, I place a hand against my breastbone, trying to quell the pain. The agony I went through earlier, the pain still lingering within me from the attack is nothing compared to what I'm now feeling. I would gladly go through a hundred brawls with Royce than feel like this.

Emmett's words repeat in my head, and something inside of me snaps. Isn't this what I had thought earlier? Isn't this what I felt was true?

I could tell myself all day and night that I would never put my family at risk and have them hurt, but that's exactly what I did. I poked the bear, and Rose was caught in the crossfire.

The room fills with the angry shouts of Emmett's name, Rose's the loudest as she begins a tirade against him, but I can't hear any of it over the roaring in my ears and the pain thundering through my chest.

I back up towards the door blindly reaching for the handle. Jasper takes a step toward me, but firmly, I shake my head, telling him not to follow. He looks pained to do so, but he nods and turns back to Rose, placing a hand on her shoulder as he whispers to her.

It's a trademark move to soothe her, but the pissed off expression he's directing at Emmett tells me the action is more one of solidarity.

In my periphery, I see Edward coming closer toward me, but I give him a look, hopefully conveying that he's not welcome to follow me.

Slipping out of the room, I leave behind the angry voices and blindly rush through the hospital with blurry eyes, trying to put as much distance as I can between myself and the room I was in.

I ignore the curious stares from the people milling about; they're the least of my worries. I'm sure I look _very _delightful at the moment with the smattering of bruises and dried blood on my face, but I can't go back there.

My shoes squeak slightly against the linoleum as I run, but it's no louder than the constant, steady beeping coming from some of the rooms I pass.

Finally, I find a private alcove near an empty waiting area, and I lean against the wall, banging my head against it a few times. My head throbs in protest against the action, but I don't fight it.

I deserve it.

Emmett's words reverberate around my head, and my eyes cloud over with tears. Hot streaks of wetness pour down my cheeks, leaving a burning trail in their wake. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, hoping to stop them, but if anything, they fall harder.

I bite my tongue until I taste blood to keep the sob threatening to erupt at bay. I've already made myself look like a careless tool tonight; I don't need to add sobbing, three-year-old to the list.

"Are you okay?"

With a gasp, I jump and jerk my head up, seeing a concerned-looking Edward standing in front of me essentially blocking any view of me if someone should walk by.

"I'm fine." I turn, facing the wall and hoping to dry the wetness on my cheeks and stop any future tears from escaping.

"Yeah, you look it."

The underlying sarcasm in his voice has me whipping around to face him again, not caring that I still have evidence of my crying fit on my face.

"What do you want?"

He studies me for a long moment, his head tilted slightly to the right, his eyes slightly narrowed and a confused look on his face. His staring is unnerving and quite frankly, makes me uncomfortable. Before I can tell him to leave, he speaks.

"You're crying," he says this with awe and astonishment, as if he can't believe I'm capable of human emotion. I guess I've done a better job of being a bitch than I thought.

"Contrary to what you and your brother believe, I'm not _heartless,_" I snap, wiping my face free of moisture. It's useless, however. Whatever I wipe away, it comes back tenfold. "I have feelings, and I cry … and _yes, _I feel awful about what happened tonight. I don't need any more reminders. Excuse me," I push past him and head toward the first door I see, which brings to another smaller waiting room. I collapse in a chair nearest the door, allowing my head to fall backward.

I wish there was a switch so I could turn off my brain, but my mind continues to think over the events of this evening on a loop.

I should have done so many things differently. I should have paid attention to the area; I should have been cautious; I should have just left well enough alone, and I definitely shouldn't have antagonized Royce.

Would Rose ever forgive me for tonight? The thought of her being mad at me forever has me shaking; Rose is my cousin, my family, my friend. I can live without a lot of things, but I can't live without her. I can't be without my family.

I need to get back and face the music. The only way I'll know if she's truly mad at me is to go back and face her, like an adult.

Preparing myself to rise, I take in a deep breath and heave myself up. The hallway to my left will take me back to Rose's room, but I don't budge from the door. The thought of heading back there, of seeing the disappointment, the hurt, and possibly the anger toward me for my actions tonight has me freezing.

"May I be of assistance, Miss?" a man in a white coat says tiredly, but not unkind.

I barely hear him, my thoughts running rampant with the idea that Rose, and possibly Jasper now hate me. Has Emmett changed their minds about me? There's surely been enough time for him to do so … but would they? Would they see the truth in his words?

My chest heaves and I have to remind myself to take calm, steady breaths … but it's not working.

"Are you all right?" The doctor steps closer, a worried expression on his face. He's gazing at me worriedly, his eyes fixated on the bruises on my lip, no doubt wondering why I look so terrible.

Remembering the breathing practices my mother uses, I take in a huge breath and release it through my mouth while I nod to the unconvinced doctor.

"Yes," I tell him once I don't feel like I'm going to collapse. "It's just been a tough night."

He nods and starts to say something, but he's cut off by a high pitched cry coming from the right. Whoever it is, they're sobbing loudly, and it's echoing throughout the halls.

"Excuse me." The doctor rushes away as his cell phone goes off and unwillingly, I find myself walking to the right.

Hiding behind a pillar, I immediately find the source of the crying.

A woman with messy, light brown hair clutches her husband tightly, loudly crying into his chest. He holds her just as tight, his face and eyes red as he tries to control his emotions, but I can clearly see the wetness on his cheeks.

A doctor stands off to the side, a pained expression on her face. Her hair is in a messy bun, and her lips curved down in a deep frown, her eyes glassy.

"Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, I'm so very sorry for your loss—"

"Are you sure you can't save her?" The woman interrupts, her voice choppy and hoarse with an edge of hysteria. "Save her, please! Save her! Bring her back. Bring my baby back, please! My baby!"

The doctor shakes her head. "I'm sorry. Your daughter had already passed away by the time she reached the hospital. The amount of blood loss and trauma her body endured was severe."

The doctor's apology is drowned out by the woman's sobbing, only this time, she's joined by her husband who doesn't bother to hold in his emotions anymore. He clings to his wife, burying his face in her hair, slowly easing them onto the floor.

Together, they cling to one another and sob, their cries echoing off the walls. Their heads come together, their sorrow blending seamlessly, making it difficult to tell where one begins and the other ends.

"My baby," the woman sobs. "My baby! I want my daughter!"

Feeling terrible for intruding on this heartbreaking moment, I silently step away, feeling myself getting choked up. Once I'm far enough away, and in a private space, I release the tears I was holding back as I collapse against the wall, sliding down onto the floor.

I feel so sorry for these people. I don't know what happened to their daughter, but I know losing someone you love is never easy, no matter _how _you lose them. The only thing that's ringing through your head at that moment is that they're gone forever.

_That could have been us tonight. Rose could have died._

A heaviness settles over me, and once more, I cry.

I cry for Rose; for the parents who just lost their daughter. I cry because the pain is too much.

More than one person walks by me, their pitying stares becoming too much.

I need air … I need to be somewhere else.

Jumping up, I wildly look around for an escape, and my breathing quickens when I find none. The edges of my vision start to darken, and I feel as if my arms and legs are being bound together by thick rope. Shaking the feeling off, I start walking, scanning the area around me for a door, and in my search, I run into another person and apologize profusely, putting as much space between this other person and me as I can.

"It's quite all right." The man pauses, his eyes scanning my face. "Are you okay, Miss? Do you need assistance?"

I shake my head, intent on continuing my search for a way outside, but change my mind once I see his medical scrubs and white coat.

"Actually, I need to get some air. It's been a tough night." I attempt a smile, but immediately regret it as my lip flairs in pain.

He stares at me for a few seconds before answering. "There's a small space up ahead on your left. Just be careful, please. This is a pretty safe area, but still, be cautious."

Ire rises within me for a brief moment. Does everyone know what a colossal screw up I am? Did someone make an announcement I missed or put something in the paper?

On my next breath, I realize he's not unkind, and the probability of him knowing what I did earlier is slim to none. Instead, he's just being nice, telling me to take care, probably something he would do for anyone. Nodding, I quickly bypass the grieving couple and head toward the door plastered with an exit sign, hoping the fresh air will calm my nerves. I push against the bar, throwing my weight into the sturdy door, and slowly walk out, observing my surroundings … because I need to do that more.

The area out here doesn't lead to a parking lot as I thought—or hoped—but instead leads into a small courtyard filled with various plants and a multitude of colorful flowers. Benches are strategically placed around a small fountain with a thin layer of algae covering the still water.

I take a seat on one of the benches, slightly gasping and jumping up as the cool metal seeps through my jeans. Slowly, I slide back until I'm fully seated and wrap my arms around myself as I shiver from the cold. Soon enough, my body gets used to the feeling.

Surrounded by silence, my mind has no choice but to drift to the events of the evening. I still have no answers to my questions and leaving them unanswered bugs me. I can probably get answers if I go see Rose, but quite frankly, I'm a little fearful she blames me too.

A part of me is telling me she would never do such a thing, but I can't read minds, so how can I be sure?

Blowing out a breath, I tilt my head back and see a cloudless sky full of stars.

The last time I had seen this many stars was when I was six. My parents took me camping during the summer, much to my displeasure. The temperature and weather conditions were perfect, and my parents were excited to be out in nature after the heavy rainfall from the week before.

I wasn't very fond of spending a night outdoors, but that was mostly due to the fact I had never done it before. Like any child, I was resistant to the idea and convinced it wouldn't be something I'd enjoy.

I grumbled the entire time, but my father promised me I would love it, or we would head home as quickly as possible. All I had to do was say the word, but I had to give it a fair shot first.

Promising to do just that, I kept my doubts mostly to myself and tried to enjoy myself, but I didn't really see the appeal of camping.

It wasn't until the sun was setting that I realized why my parents wanted to come out into the wilderness. We all collapsed in fabric chairs as we watched the sky change.

The sky faded from a brilliant blue to reds, pinks, and purples before changing into an inky gray, with the stars glittering like diamonds. I was breathless at the sight and stared at the sky the entire night, ignoring the chuckles of my parents as they huddled together under a blanket, watching the sky, much like I was.

Like all those years ago, a strong feeling of peace washes over me, and everything else melts away. I'm in the moment and ready to stay here forever.

Maybe we can go again. I'm sure we all could use a vacation. That is, if Rose and Jasper want anywhere near me.

The thought is sobering and has me frowning, a heaviness once again settling on my chest and in my stomach.

The feeling of someone's eyes on me quickly replaces my peace with unease. In a gut reaction, my head snaps to the left.

"You're getting a bell for Christmas," I grumble.

Edward's lips quirk in a small smile. "You're getting me something for Christmas?"

"It's better than what I was going to get you."

"Which was?"

"Not a damn thing."

"What do you know? We had the same idea." He gives a small laugh, and unable to help myself, I chuckle lowly. "I'm sorry," Edward says after a long moment. His voice is low and soft; if we weren't surrounded by silence, I never would have heard him. He steps toward me, his hands buried in his pockets, and his head tilts down slightly as he stares at his shoes. "I hope I didn't disturb you. Are you okay?"

I scoot up higher on the bench as he sits beside me. I wrap my arms around my knees, staring at my bruises. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He looks unconvinced, but I make no move to speak again and look at him head-on. As unbalanced as I feel, I know I'll start blathering and crying again soon, and I don't want to do that anymore. Especially in front of him.

"Rosalie is looking for you," he quietly says.

My throat tightens, and I go rigid, gripping my knees with a strength I wasn't sure I had. I'm tempted to ask him what mood she's in; whether she's looking to tell me to fuck off or if she's worried.

I don't want to ask, but I want to be prepared.

"I think it's best if I keep my distance; she's probably super pissed. Right?" I murmur, my heart galloping in my throat.

The biting pain from my bruised fingernails digging into my skin is nothing compared to the apprehension I feel as I wait for his rebuttal. When he delays in responding, I fear I have my answer.

"Bella—"

Not wanting to hear it, I scramble up and sway on my feet. Edward reaches out and grabs my arm, sliding his other arm around my waist, and in one effortless move, he pulls me into his side. Surprisingly, I don't feel the need to jerk away, as I have been all evening.

Instead, I feel comfortable … and safe.

My mouth goes dry at the thought, and despite the coolness of his skin, I flush with warmth from head to toe.

Softly, no louder than a whisper, he says my name. My eyes trail up from the collar of the charcoal gray Henley he's wearing to his slightly square chin, over her his pouty lips and pointed nose all the way up to his toffee-colored eyes.

I notice, with envy that his lashes are long and full, much more beautiful than my own, which in my opinion just isn't fair.

Edward swallows thickly when we're looking at one another, his lips parting the slightest bit as his breathing accelerates slightly. I shiver with each brush of his chest against mine and find myself pushing closer to him with each passing second.

"Bella," he says again, my name coming out in a breathy whisper.

_My name has never sounded so good. Wow. _

"We should go inside."

I blink, the words slowly comprehending in my head. Feeling foolish and freaked out by my lapse in judgment, I break away from him and head for the door.

Edward follows silently behind me, giving me a tight smile as he holds the door open for me. He places a hand on my back and leads me to Rose's room, much to my apprehension. We pass by a nurse's station and the older nurse at the desk smiles politely at me, but her expression brightens tenfold when she sees who's with me.

"Edward, how lovely to see you!"

I pause, watching as she shuffles over to us to kiss his cheek, making him smile in embarrassment. The woman chuckles with a fond expression.

"Hello, Gertrude. How are you?"

"I'm okay, dear, thank you. How are you? It's been so long since we've seen you … too long as a matter of fact!"

"I know, I'm sorry. Things have been … crazy."

"I understand," she replies, patting his arm. Then, her face takes on a look of excitement. Her hands pressed together in front of her chest as she gazes at him with sparkling, yet pleading eyes. "I noticed you're scheduled to sing at the Fall Festival for the children and Alzheimer's patients in a few weeks. Is that right or did my old eyes deceive me?"

My eyebrows shoot up so far I'm surprised they're not caught in my hair. Does Edward sing for the patients? I never would have guessed he would do such a thing.

Sure, he sang for Claire, but that was one child … something to help a sick girl relax while his father gave her medication to feel better. But this? This is something completely different.

"You're not old, Gertrude." She waves her hand dismissively, rolling her eyes, and he quietly continues, shooting a nervous look toward me. "Yes, I am."

It's obvious he doesn't want me to know this part about him, but Gertrude misconstrues his look and turns to me, beaming. Or maybe she simply wants to brag.

"Edward has done so much for the patients … and not just here either! I have a buddy who works at Forks General; he says he's done a lot there as well. He sings, reads stories, and brings them whatever they need to make their stay a little more tolerable … and he's so good with the children! Such a sweetheart," she gushes.

Edward looks away from both of us, rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at the floor.

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you, Edward. Hey, while I have you here, there's something I'd like to run by you—"she pauses, an apologetic look on her face as she glances at me. "If it's all right with you, of course?"

I nod and step back, eager for the delay. It'll give me some time to process everything I've learned about Edward, and ready myself for seeing my family again. "Go ahead. I'll be over here."

I point toward the wall filled with flyers. As I step back, I catch Edward's knowing expression but ignore it and study the wall.

Taped and pinned to corkboards are posters for reminders to get flu shots, to wash your hands and cover your nose and mouth when you sneeze or cough. By the empty nurses' station is a bulletin board with reminders for upcoming events: a sing-along, a Halloween party, costume parade and a picnic in the sunroom for children eligible to attend.

The far side of the board contains missing person's posters, some of them I've seen hanging around Forks and Port Angeles. They were most likely put up in case one of them is brought in, so their families and the police can be notified.

I recognize none of the faces, not that I expect to, considering they're all from the suburbs of Seattle or Port Angeles.

One face stands out the most, probably because she's the youngest and has been missing the longest.

Bree Tanner. Age 13. According to the paper, her birthday was yesterday.

The missing person's poster describes her having dark brown hair and eyes, a tan complexion and a sunny smile. The memo at the bottom of the paper is from the parents, begging for any news about their daughter.

It's so sad what's happening around here, and I can only hope that those missing will be found alive and unharmed—especially Bree. She needs to be with her family.

I pause, looking at the poster again.

_Tanner. Didn't the doctor say, Mr. and Mrs. Tanner?_

Could it be? Is this the same girl that belongs to the grieving couple?

I stare at her picture again and swallow thickly. It has to be. She has the same eyes as her mother and the same hair color as her father. My stomach churns as I think back to their devastated expressions, and the heart-wrenching wails her mother expressed ring through my head and grip my heart.

"Bella?"

I spin around, finding Edward standing behind me with a worried expression. Upon seeing my face, he reaches toward me, his hand gently sliding down my arm, cupping my elbow.

"What's wrong?" His eyes dart over my face, lingering on the bruises there. "Are you feeling sick? Dizzy?"

"No," I reply, shaking my head. The action makes my head throb a little more, but I don't dare say a word. Instead, I turn around, staring at Bree's poster. I want to say something; I want to tell him what I saw and the anger I feel for Bree's life being cut short.

But I don't. I can't seem to find the words. Instead, I place my hand on her picture and hope I was wrong; I hope it wasn't her parents I saw grieving for their child.

Deep down, however, I know I'm right.

Edward's grip tightens on my elbow and glancing over, I see a mixture of emotions on his face as he stares at Bree's picture.

Anger. Pain. Sadness.

These emotions fly over his face so rapidly I have a hard time keeping up with them at first, but the longer I stare, the more obvious they become.

They should be, after all. They're the same things I'm feeling for her. How can someone be so heartless toward this girl? What had she done to deserve such a fate?

Nothing, in my mind. There's nothing she could have done to warrant _this _and I can only hope the person or people responsible will pay.

Painfully.

Stepping back, I allow my hand to drop.

"We should get—"

"You volunteer, huh?" I question, interrupting him. I take a seat in the small waiting area. Edward follows but doesn't sit. He stands in front of me, gazing down with a pensive expression.

I raise an eyebrow at his silence, and after a few moments, he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair collapsing in the seat next to me.

"Yeah, I volunteer. It … helps them. Takes their minds off their worries and troubles. I can't do much else; I've tried though, but it never seems to be enough. Either that or it doesn't help. Singing, reading, entertaining or just being there, _that _helps … and it's enough … for now. Until I can think of something to help them all."

"It sounds like you're going to follow in your dad's footsteps."

"I am," he nods firmly.

I have to say, I'm impressed. I never thought Edward would be so kind and want to help people. Then again, he's nice to everyone but me, and as a result, we haven't had any heart to heart conversations.

Edward's arm bumps mine. "Don't be so surprised. Like you, I'm not heartless."

His words bring forth everything I've been trying to forget. A heaviness settles on my chest, and I gently rub at it, hoping it'll go away.

"I didn't mean anything by it, you know," he softly says, kneeling in front of me. His hands reach for me, but he hesitates, curling them around his knees. "I'm sorry for upsetting you … multiple times this evening. Earlier, after; anyway, I wasn't blaming you for what happened. I was just … trying to tell you to be careful, should there be a next time. I have a hard time with my words and tone sometimes, especially around you. I think it's your superpower or something."

Unable to help myself, I smile, and Edward returns the gesture before it falls into a serious one once more.

"And as for you crying … well," he pauses, seemingly thinking over his words. "You always look so strong and willful—"

"You mean, I'm a bitch."

It doesn't bother me that he thinks I'm a bitch, but thinking I'm uncaring and unfeeling? _That _is something that pisses me off.

He smiles, shaking his head at my interruption. "You can be that too," he teases. "But no. I mean confident. It seems nothing ever upsets you. I've seen you happy and pissed off, but never sad. I just figured nothing ever fazed you that way. I guess I figured you _were _heartless and didn't feel things like sadness. I'm naïve in thinking that way, I know, but you're … difficult to read."

I smirk but quickly mask it. A part of me is glad he seems so upset by me being hard to understand, while another part of me understands him a little bit better. It seems we've both made assumptions about each other that were based on isolated incidents and feelings in the heat of the moment.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I never meant to imply or infer that you were responsible for what happened because you're not. The fault lies on Royce alone. Do you forgive my transgression?"

Unable to help myself, I smirk and shake my head at his formal tone and words. While the apology is warranted, he doesn't need to act like I'm royalty. A simple "I'm sorry, I screwed up," would be just fine.

"What?" He questions, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

"You're so formal sometimes."

He rolls his eyes. "It's an apology; they're supposed to be somewhat formal when you're trying to make amends for something you did wrong. So, are you going to accept it or not?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

There's a heavy moment of silence before he speaks. "One, because I was wrong and I want you to know that. Two … because my mother would never forgive me if she found out. She raised me to be a gentleman, and honestly, she frightens me."

The complete honesty in his words makes me laugh. From what I've seen from Emmett getting in trouble, I can imagine that an angry Esme is a sight to see, and definitely, something you should fear.

"Can I think about it until I get a translator or a dictionary? You know, so I can put it in normal words?" I tease. "I want to be sure you're actually apologizing and not insulting me in fancy speak."

He turns his head, but I can see the smile on his face very clearly. After counting to twenty in my head, I speak. "I forgive you. I'm shocked that you've apologized to me _again, _but I forgive you."

"I've never had to apologize so much in my entire existence."

I snort lightly. "Why? Because you're never wrong?"

"No. Normally, I can read people quite easily. I know what to say and how to say it, but you—" he pauses, an uncomfortable look crossing his features. Clearing his throat, he shifts his body away from me, looking down at his hands before murmuring.

"We should go. Rosalie and Jasper are quite worried about you."

Glancing at him, I try to gauge whether he's lying or if he's being truthful. There's nothing but honesty in his expression, but can I trust him? He's been pleasant and nice one minute, and then scary and hostile the next. With mood changes that severe, I'm not sure I _can_ trust him.

He turns his body fully toward me, looking me straight in the eye. It's a little unnerving and uncomfortable, but at the same time, it's also oddly comforting.

I might have a concussion after all. Geez, these feelings are all over the place.

"Bella, I'm telling you the truth; Rosalie and Jasper _are _worried. Especially so when you left so suddenly." His lips twitch as he continues. "In fact, I wish you would have stayed. Rosalie was rather _vocal _toward my brother when she learned you had left. She was not pleased with what he had said and managed to tell him off very forcefully. It was quite a sight … and deserved, I might add."

The image of Rose tearing Emmett a new one and the slight relief I feel at his words has me laughing. After experiencing Rose's temper, I know she has the wrath of a pissed-off bear waking up in the winter. Once she gets started, she doesn't stop until she's done.

"I promise, she's not upset. Come." He stands, offering a hand toward me. With a shaky exhale, I place my hand in his and allow him to pull me up and guide me back toward Rose's room.

I linger outside, my hand rising to push the door open, only to drop it back down seconds later. Edward stands surprisingly patient and quiet at my side, watching me act like a total spaz. On the plus side, however, my arm is getting a workout, so that's a plus.

Frustrated at my own crazy behavior, I sigh heavily and quickly escape to the nurses' station four feet away. Leaning against the desk, I bite my sore lip and dig my sensitive fingernails into the flesh of my palms, hoping maybe with the pain will replace the uncertainty and nervousness I feel.

Very softly, Edward pries my fingers away from my flesh, his soothing the red marks there. He pulls me away from the curious nurse and stands next to me, his chest brushing against my arm with every inhale.

"Everything will be fine," he softly says, reassuring.

I scoff, unable to help myself. "You can't know that. With all due respect, you haven't given me much reason to—"

"I don't care!" I hear Rose shout from within her room. She sounds worried and almost desperate. "Find her, Jasper! I want her here. I need to see her, so find her!"

A nurse rushes past me and into Rose's room before she's done yelling and I manage to catch a quick glimpse of her before the door shuts. Her eyes are wide, and her face is a blotchy red. Jasper stands behind her, one hand on her shoulder as he speaks to her.

The heaviness in my chest comes back, but for a different reason. I haven't seen Rose look so upset since her parents died ten years ago.

Just one more thing I've done to her tonight.

Edward's head tilts to the side as he watches my face carefully. "Do you believe me now?"

In a jerky motion, I nod. "Yeah, let's go before they sedate her."

I push off the wall but immediately stagger backward as a wave of dizziness washes over me. Edward slides a hand over my elbow, the other hand settling on my waist.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I think I just moved too fast. I got a little dizzy."

"Hold on."

He holds his hands in front of me before spinning around and heading toward the nurse's station, ducking behind the desk and rummaging around. My eyebrows rise as I look around for the nurse who was there.

A few seconds later, Edward comes back and thrusts it into my hands, his fingers trailing slowly across my wrist. In my hands is a cold, somewhat pliable paper container.

A juice box.

I raise an eyebrow in question, shaking the little green box lightly.

He sheepishly smiles, shrugging a shoulder. "Normally, juice, water, and sodas are kept at the nurses' station in case of emergencies. You needed something to drink, preferably with sugar."

I'm impressed by his medical knowledge, but then again, I shouldn't be. From what I've learned, it seems Edward spends a lot of time at hospitals. Plus, with his doctor father, I'm sure he's picked up more than enough interesting facts.

I quietly thank him and open the juice, taking small sips. Slowly, I start to feel a little bit better. It's not anything drastic; I'm not going to break out in song and dance in the hallway, but I do feel more centered than before.

Once I finish the juice, he takes the empty container and throws it in a nearby trashcan, carefully watching me.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

I'm not sure what to say now. What do I say after everything that's happened? I'm not even sure _what _has happened. Never in a million years did I think _Edward _would be nice to me. In all honesty, I expected Alice to come find me, not him.

We stand in awkward silence, me leaning against the wall and tapping my foot against the floor and Edward with his hands shoved in the pockets of his dirty jeans. Our eyes meet each other's sporadically, before quickly looking away at something else.

I feel ridiculous, and a little bit pissed at myself. I shouldn't be at a loss for words. That's _never _been me; then again, tonight has been a strange night. Finally, I decide to speak.

Unfortunately, Edward has the same idea.

"Well, I—"

"How do—"

We both pause, and I wave him ahead, indicating he should speak first.

"How do you feel? Your bruises, I mean."

My fingers gently brush the discolored flesh. The skin around my throat is quite sensitive, and I wince against the gentle touch, immediately pulling my hand away.

To my surprise, Edward's finger gently follows the same path, just barely grazing the skin there.

Air gets caught in my throat, and I make a low, gasping, hiccupping sound. For a brief moment, my entire body stands on end, alert, and ready to fight. As quickly as it comes, the feeling is replaced by heat flying through my system.

The sensation isn't new to me. I've felt attraction to more than a few guys, but never to this extreme. The hormones now soaring throughout my body want me to throw myself at him.

Why him? Why _Edward_? What the hell is happening to me? Is it because I know he hates me? Because I know nothing will ever happen, so it's something I want the most.

In order to regain my composure, I straighten my shoulders and look at him squarely.

"I'll survive."

"You will."

I'm about to ask him what the hell is happening between us when Rose's worried voice meets my ears. I grimace slightly and take in a deep breath readying myself to go inside.

Feeling really awkward, I have no idea what to do now. Do I thank him for his support? For staying with me? Do I say goodbye? Does he even want me to?

I hate how I'm second-guessing myself now that he's been nice to me; something, I'm sure won't last. Call it pessimism or a gut feeling, I just somehow know this streak of niceness won't carry on into a new day.

Still, I feel like I should say something, so I give a sorry excuse for a wave and smile, mumbling my thanks for what he's done for me this evening.

He smiles and chuckles with a nod, shoving his hands in his pockets as he takes a step back. Suddenly, his head snaps to the left and swallows audibly, his eyes widening. I don't get a chance to see what has him looking so worried, as the door in front of me is yanked open, and a familiar gasp can be heard.

A firm hand grabs ahold of my wrist and yanks me forward into a familiar pair of arms. I gasp, seeing Jasper's amused, yet worried face standing a foot away while Rose squeezes me tightly.

"There's nothing wrong with your reflexes," I rush out in one breath.

"Rosalie, why don't you let Bella breathe?" Jasper suggests, but he's ignored as Rose keeps her stronghold on me.

"I was so worried! No one could find you, and you just left without a word," she says, pulling back and looking me in the eye. "You had me scared to death! Do you know the thoughts running through my head, huh? Do you?"

"I'm sorry," I tell her, pouring every ounce of geniality and sincerity in my words. "I just … couldn't stay."

She nods with a grimace of sympathy before it changes into one of anger. "You don't believe that crap about what was said tonight, right? That it was your fault?"

I shrug because honestly, in my heart, I _feel _like it was. At least in a way.

I know I'm not responsible for Royce's actions. I can't predict human behavior, and I definitely can't control what they say or do. However, Emmett and Edward both had valid points. I didn't have to antagonize him repeatedly, and I could have paid more attention to my surroundings.

Not only for Royce but for what's been happening around town. How many posters of missing people have I seen? How many times have I been told to be vigilant?

Not enough, apparently.

"Listen, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Emmett—"

"_Told_?" Jasper scoffs with a hint of amusement on his face. "More like screamed."

Rose shrugs with a satisfied smirk. "Anyway, like I _screamed _at him—"

Holding up a hand, I stop her rant and tell her my thoughts on the matter. By the time I'm done, her lips are twisted so far to the side I'm surprised her jaw hasn't dislocated.

After a moment, she takes in a deep breath and leads us over to the hospital bed. Jasper stands on my other side, placing a hand on my shoulder while Rose takes my hands, squeezing them lightly.

"I understand what you're saying. I do. But let me tell you something: _it wasn't your fault_," she says, firmly punctuating the last four words, squeezing my hands. "Royce would have come after us no matter what you did or didn't do. He's always hated me and essentially you, for the aftermath of what happened freshman year. As for not being vigilant, well, then I guess I'll take the blame on that one too. I wasn't aware of our surroundings. I didn't look for anyone or anything suspicious. You didn't drag me toward that darkened alley kicking and screaming; I went willingly. It wasn't your fault." She pauses, taking a deep breath. "What Emmett implied … what Edward said, _they _were wrong. They were victim-blaming, and that's not okay. Did you make mistakes? Did we _both _make mistakes? Yes. We're human, but what happened tonight _was not our fault_."

Beside me, Jasper squeezes my shoulder. "Rose is right. You're not at fault. Royce is."

Sighing heavily, I lean against Rose, feeling lighter. I hadn't realized just how much I was relying on their support until now. Yes, I _wanted _their support and forgiveness, but to know I have it is something else altogether.

Rose chuckles, squeezing me tightly running a hand over my hair. "You weren't really worried I'd be angry and never forgive you, were you?"

My silence answers her question, and she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, her fingers still combing through my hair. "You're silly," she murmurs.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I allow Jasper to maneuver us over to the hospital bed, where we both sit, still clutching one another. Jasper sits on my other side, wrapping an arm around both of us.

In the silence of the room, my thoughts start to wander back to the events of the night, and in an effort to distract myself, I recall Rose's words about telling Emmett off. I voice my thoughts to no one in particular, knowing one of them will answer.

"Oh, you should have seen it!" Jasper exclaims, with a snicker. "It was epic! Rose tore Emmett a new one. I should have recorded it. Anyway, she screamed that he was the biggest jerk in the world because he was putting on the blame on you, making Rose look like a helpless maiden in need of rescue and not being pissed at Royce. He argued, of course, but Rose shut him down so fast. She told him if he _was _blaming Royce, then he wouldn't have implied what he did about you. Then, she proceeded to tell him—in depth—what, and I quote, _an idiotic asshole _he is for blaming the victim when he should be helping you. Then, she started in on Edward, telling him he was no better and that she had heard what he said outside of the alley."

I laugh and look at Rose, who looks mighty pleased with herself. She straightens herself with the hand not wrapped around my arm and rubs her knuckles on her shirt, before blowing on them. "I'm good, huh? Making two of the _Cullens _afraid? Everyone else is so skittish around them."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, mumbling something under her breath, but it's lost underneath Jasper's excited and awe sounding tone. "True, but when Mrs. Cullen started in on them? Ooh." He fakes a wince, though a smile is still on his face. "She made them both tuck their tails between their legs. Said if they didn't apologize, then there would be hell to pay. To be honest, _I _was a little scared of her and prepared to apologize, too, until I realized she wasn't talking to me."

I laugh, but it fades quickly. "Did they? Apologize, I mean."

"Yeah," Rose answers. "Edward explained he wasn't trying to blame you. It just came out wrong. He seemed genuine. As for Emmett … I'm not accepting his apology anytime soon _or _his attempt to make things better. Honestly, there's nothing he can do to make it better. I mean, he _blamed _you. I don't know how he could blame _you. _It wasn't even your fault!"

_Well,__ I have to agree to disagree on that one, Rose._

"Did they come to find you?" Jasper asks, breaking me from my thoughts. "They both left pretty quickly after that."

In a low voice, I tell them I spoke to Edward, finally realizing why he had come to find me. Earlier he _did _say his mother could be scary and he would do anything for her. Is that what his apology was? Was he doing it for his mother? Did he mean it?

As much as I would like to say he didn't mean it and was only apologizing to get his mother off his back, I know it's not true. Edward _has _apologized before, and he _did _seem completely and entirely genuine when he explained the misunderstanding about his tone and his subsequent regret for everything.

"Edward apologized?" Rose says, looking impressed. From my right, even Jasper looks awestruck and very pleased. "Good. I mean, I didn't think he would, but good. At least there's more than one brain in that family. Too bad Emmett got the short stick."

Her last words are mumbled, but I hear them loud and clear. I wonder why she cares so much about Emmett's reaction. She's made it clear in the past she's not very fond of him, so why is she obsessing over this?

Before I can ask, Rose leans forward, looking at Jasper.

"When can we get out of here? I want to go home."

"As soon as Uncle Charlie and Aunt Renee come back. I don't know what's taking them so long, though."

"Is my Bella in there?"

_Speak of the devil._

Turning, I search out my mother and hug her tightly as soon as she's in reach. She holds me close, running a hand over my hair and periodically kissing my temples. Dad cautiously steps into my line of vision, obviously having been let in on my behavior tonight.

I smile over Mom's shoulder and hold out a hand to him. Softly, he takes it, rubbing his thumb over my bruised nails with a frown. Sensing my stare, he looks up and gives a tense smile, slowly leaning forward and kissing my head.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Dad."

Mom pulls away, sniffling loudly as she steps back, looking at the three of us, her eyes glassy.

"Oh, my babies! I was so worried. I hope that piece of trash rots in hell. He better hope I never get a hold of him," she spits. Dad places a hand on her shoulder, and she closes her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. "Carlisle assured me you're both okay," she says, though it sounds like she's mostly talking to herself. "He's coming home with us to watch over you, and you're going to be fine."

"Of course we are," Rose soothes. "We'll be back to normal in no time."

"You will," Mom replies with a firm nod. She turns, her gaze landing on Dr. C immediately. "When can I take my babies home?"

"I have the discharge paperwork right here," he tells her, handing over a stack of papers. "I'll follow you in my car."

We all breathe a sigh of relief. I'm sure everyone wants this night to be over with and going home to get some rest is the start.

With a relieved nod, Rose rushes out of the room and looks both ways as she saunters out into the hallway. Jasper and I follow behind, giving her questioning looks as she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Alice steps up beside her, ignoring her untrusting glance and murmurs something to her. Rose's face pinches up, her jaw going taut. She says something in response and stalks off, muttering under her breath.

"What was that about?" Jasper asks Alice.

She brushes off his comforting words with a smile, waving toward Rose, standing at the end of the hall.

"It's fine. You should go to her and see if she's okay."

He smiles in thanks and takes off after her. I start to follow, but the combination of a timid Alice sliding next to me and my dad's voice stops me.

"I'm sorry we had to see each other under these circumstances, Esme."

Esme places her hand in his outstretched one, squeezing briefly. "I am as well."

He says his goodbyes and walks over to me with a tired look on his face. Mom is talking to Dr. C quietly in the corner.

"Nice to see you, sir," Alice says, her voice more subdued than I've heard in a while. The last time I heard her sound so down was when I accused her of using me to get to Jasper.

"It's nice to see you too, Alice. You're a good friend to come with Bella and Rosalie to the hospital."

His words make me wonder when he had seen Alice.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else, sir. Bella is my best friend, and Rosalie is … important to her."

My dad huffs a knowing laugh. He knows Rose hasn't warmed up to her, and it'll be a while before she does.

"Have you met before?" I question, thinking over their choice of words. When would they have met?

"We met when we first moved to town," Alice answers without missing a beat. "I was with my parents when he came by."

Dad nods but doesn't look pleased with my question. Thinking over it, I realize it did sound a little rude and quietly murmur an apology.

He squeezes my shoulder and smiles, telling me my apology is accepted and heads to my mother, who is talking to Esme and Dr. C.

"Maybe we can all get together sometime soon," my mother offers. "It would be so nice to erase this horrible night."

"Yes, definitely," Esme replies. "Soon, if that's all right. I'll be by, and we'll set something up then."

With a bright smile, Mom nods and hugs Esme, who returns the gesture whole-heartedly. She murmurs something in my mother's ear that has her nodding and wiping away tears before turning to my father, who is thanking Dr. C.

"Thanks for doing this, Carlisle. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"No need for thanks," Dr. C replies. "I'm happy to do it for you, old friend."

Dad smiles, gratefully. "Let's get going," Dad loudly says, gaining Mom's attention. "We're all tired and run-down. Who are you riding with, Bella? Me or Jasper?"

I wonder about Rose's car, but Jasper says it's already in the parking lot. Apparently, he had followed us in Rose's car when we were taken to the hospital.

"I'll ride with Jasper."

Mom and Dad nod simultaneously and give us a quick hug. I whisper an apology to Mom, feeling bad that her date night was interrupted. She merely rolls her eyes and shakes her head, moving on to Jasper before leading us out into the hall.

Jasper and I exchange goodbyes and a "thank you" with the Cullens.

"No problem at all," Esme says with a soft smile. "I'll see you later."

Nodding, I head down the hall toward Rose, giving Jasper some privacy as he speaks with Alice.

Rose leans against the wall, her cell phone in hand and her thumbs furiously gliding over the screen. Her face is pinched up in anger, and it makes me wonder what she's typing and _who _she's typing it to. With a satisfied smirk, she hits the screen once more before pocketing her phone.

"Ready? Where's Jasper?"

"Saying goodbye to Alice."

She frowns, her lips pursed tightly together, but she says nothing. Crossing her arms over her chest, she taps her foot against the floor, her eyes glued to the back of Jasper's head.

He looks over his shoulder multiple times as he converses with Alice, his eyebrows becoming more pinched each time he does. I nudge Rose's side, silently telling her to cool off, but she merely huffs and goes back to her staring.

"Finally," she mutters as Jasper walks over, car keys in hand.

"Everything okay?" he questions, looking intently at his sister.

"Fine. Let's go."

He looks as if he's going to question her further about it, but shakes his head a second later, changing his mind.

Outside, Mom and Dad are talking with Edward and Emmett, the latter wearing a very serious expression on his face. He nods at whatever Dad is telling them before walking away. I meet Edward's gaze for a moment, my lips quirking as he gives me a light wave. I wave in response, looking over his shoulder at Emmett's piercing gaze.

Instead of him staring at me, however, he's looking at Rose. His eyes are saddened, his lips pulled into a pout. Rose is studiously ignoring him, keeping her eyes focused on my parents.

"What was that about?"

Dad raises an eyebrow at Rose's tone but doesn't correct her. "Just having a word with them. Nothing for you to be concerned about."

She starts to argue but is cut off by Mom. "Who are you riding with Rosalie?"

"I'll ride with you two."

Mom seems pleased and climbs into the backseat of the car next to her. Rose falls into her side, and Mom doesn't hesitate to wrap her arms around her, holding her close.

Dad steps up, placing a hand on each of our shoulders. "I'll meet you two at home. Be careful, okay?"

"Of course, Uncle Charlie," Jasper answers, a serious look on his face.

Dad nods once, kissing my forehead and clapping Jasper on the shoulder.

"You doin', okay? Do you need help getting inside? Are you too fragile to do it yourself?" Jasper questions with a slight smirk. Despite the humor in his eyes, I can see worry there too.

"Yes." I sigh dramatically and fall into him, forcing him to hold me upright. I look up at him and place a hand on my forehead. "I'm so weak. Help me."

Jasper rolls his eyes and chuckles, but instead of pushing me away like I thought he would, he slings an arm around my shoulder, escorting me to the car. I eye him curiously, which he responds to with a raised eyebrow.

"What? I just want to be sure you're okay. Tonight—"he blows out a breath, looking down at the ground momentarily before continuing. "Tonight was scary. I just—"

He shrugs and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck as he stars off into the distance. A strong feeling washes over me, laced with emotions that are too heavy for me to put a name on. It's a strange combination of wanting to cry and laugh at the same time.

Jasper looks back at me with a tense smile, his eyes slightly glassy and pulls me into a hug. I hug him back just as tightly, silently telling him that I'm here and I'm okay.

Giving me one last squeeze he pulls back with a smile, looking much lighter than he did a few moments prior.

Wanting to ease the tension, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Were you this emotional with Rose?"

He laughs, nodding. "Yeah. She had to endure it, and so do you. Don't worry, though. My emotional moment is over."

"Thank goodness," I tease.

He rolls his eyes, motioning toward the car. "Let's go."

A minute later, we're on the road, heading home. The car is quiet, except for the soft music playing on the radio.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment, remorse heavy in his tone.

I look over at him with confusion. "About what?"

"For tonight. For not being there. We were supposed to be together, and I bailed on you."

Rolling my eyes, I wave away his apology. In my eyes, he's done nothing wrong. If we're placing blame on people, it should be on Royce … and me.

While I know I'm not at fault for what happened, guilt is anchored around my ankles like an iron ball. There's so much I could have done differently. Now, all I can do is make sure I don't make the same mistakes again.

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

He scoffs and I turn as much as I can, clicking on the overhead light and raising an eyebrow in question. "Okay. Tell me then, _why _do you have to be sorry?"

"I told you, I bailed on you."

I have a feeling there's something more to this than what he's telling me, but I doubt I'd get it out of him. His lips are pinched together, a thin white line where his lips should be. I know that move is both physical and metaphorical.

"It's not your fault. I doubt there was anything you could have done, Jasper. Royce he was … different. He was definitely on something. You know Rose and I can take care of ourselves, but he was juiced up on something. If you had been there, you would have gotten hurt too, because he would have taken you out first."

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off the road. "You don't know that."

"Just like you don't know you could have done anything if you were there."

He groans at my reasoning but doesn't say anything else. We lapse into silence and minutes later, just when I'm about to fall asleep, he speaks.

"I'm sorry you two got hurt."

Reaching over, I pat his arm. "We'll be okay … as long as I don't screw up again."

He gives me a sharp look. "Is this about what Emmett and Edward said? Because …."

"No, no. I just …" I shrug, pausing for a moment. "I _do _feel guilty … and I get what Rose said, I do. I know Royce would have done something anyway, but I still feel like I should have been more vigilant."

Jasper reaches over, squeezing my forearm briefly before returning his hand to the wheel. "You need to get past this, Bella. It's not your fault."

I nod, knowing what he's saying is true. Still, I can't help but _feel _guilty, and I know the feeling won't go away easily.

The question now is, what can I do to make sure something like this never happens again?

The answer is clear: I'm going to be more careful and cautious, especially with people who are close to me. This, tonight, won't happen again if I can help it.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**I also want to give you a heads up; things in life are stressful right now, so I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to update next week. I'll try my absolute best to post next Wednesday, but I won't promise anything. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! Your support means a lot!**

**Thanks to Fran, Monica03, and Mr G and Me for their help with this story. I couldn't do it without them! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

The next few days bring constant movement and an electrified feeling of anticipation no one can place.

Dad is always up and moving around, writing things down in the small notebook he keeps in his pocket. His cell phone is constantly ringing, and each time he emerges from the master bedroom, he has a big smile on his face.

I've asked him more than once what has him so happy, with Rose and Jasper acting as my back-up, hitting them with their own inquiries. He simply smiles each time, saying he can't comment on it yet, though I do see him and Mom exchanging whispers.

While Dad and Mom are off sharing secrets and excited smiles, Rose, Jasper and I stick together the entire week we're home, except for a few moments where we need privacy. Due to the constant heavy downpour, ideas of going outside have been vetoed, and instead, we opt to stay in our pajamas, vegging out in front of the television.

It's perfect for me because I'm much too sore to do anything besides reach for food, go to the bathroom and go to bed. Rose is in the same boat as I am, wincing and hissing through her teeth with each move she makes.

Today, during our movie marathon, things get a little heated when we started to argue about what to watch next. Jasper insists it's his turn, considering he had sat through a chick flick (Rose's choice.) I, however, know it's my turn; Jasper had chosen the goofy, but terrible, comedy before Rose's movie.

"It is not!"

"It is too," I loudly reply, leaning over Rose. "It's not my fault you picked a sucky movie."

He scowls. "I did not! _You _picked before Rosalie."

I shake my head. "No, you insisted on getting the first pick which we gave you, you big baby. Then, it was Rose's turn, now it's mine!"

Instead of using his words, he grabs a handful of popcorn, tossing it at my face. I blink in astonishment, my mouth hanging open in shock.

"Hey!" Rose shouts. "Don't do that!"

Before I can comprehend what's happening, Rose grabs a handful of popcorn, throwing it at Jasper. In the blink of an eye, we're grabbing popcorn out of the bowl, tossing it at one another in a wild frenzy. When the container is empty, we're scooping it off the floor and resuming our battle.

A throat clearing at the doorway has us freezing. Slowly, we look over and see our parents standing there. Instead of disapproving glances and heavy frowns followed by a lecture, they're both sporting huge smiles.

From behind her back, Mom produces a camera and snaps a quick picture, ignoring Rose's complaints. I'm sure we all look fabulous with messy hair filled with popcorn, wrinkled clothes, and dark circles under our eyes from sleep that never seems to be enough. Adding to all of that is the colorful array of bruises Rose and I are sporting.

I know Mom is going to put that in the album of embarrassment or as she calls it, the family photos, but I don't care. It's a fun moment to remember.

The doorbell rings and Rose's eyes widen, looking around at the mess around us before her eyes land on Jasper and me. Her hands go to her hair and feeling the amount of food in there, her eyes widen even further.

"Company? Who is it?" Rose frantically asks.

"Don't know," Dad replies, seemingly just as surprised as she is. "You kids clean that up. I'll answer the door."

"Get the vacuum," Mom advises as she starts to follow Dad.

"Way ahead of you, Aunt Ren. All right, move it, Jasper."

"Why me?"

"Because _you _started _this,_" she says, pointing to him and then to the popcorn scattered about.

He grumbles at Rose's orders, but does as he's told, shaking the popcorn out of his hair. Rose gives him a hard and exasperated stare.

He throws his hands up in the air. "What? We're going to need to get it out of our hair somehow."

As he goes to fetch the vacuum from the laundry room, my parents open the door, and my mother greets the people on the other side enthusiastically.

"Carlisle, Esme! How nice to see you … and Edward! How of you to stop by."

Being as nosey and curious as I am, I hurry to the front door, brushing my fingers through my hair, dislodging more pieces of popcorn and straightening my clothes, hoping it wasn't obvious how quickly I rushed over.

All worries about my hasty arrival are soon forgotten as I see Edward's wide eyes and the awkward pats on the back he's giving my mother as she hugs him tightly. I bite my lip to hold in my laughter at his obvious discomfort over her attention.

Hearing my snicker, his eyes shoot to mine and amusement settles on his face at my appearance. I'm sure there's still popcorn in my hair, but I shrug, not caring if I look like a fool. I think I've earned it.

"May we come in for a moment?" Dr. C asks, stepping forward with Esme half a step behind him.

It's only when my parents step aside do I see a covered dish in her hands, which Jasper promptly offers to take, once he's delivered the vacuum to Rose, who has removed a majority of the popcorn from her hair. I don't fail to notice that Rose looking behind the trio with a frown, but gives a polite smile when Dr. C looks at her.

Esme thanks Jasper with a smile and turns to Rose and me, looking us over with a careful eye, like my own mother—and Rose, occasionally—have done in the past … and every minute of the past few days, if I'm being honest.

"How are you both feeling?"

I don't fail to notice Edward staring at me intently as Rose answers Carlisle's question.

"We're fine. A little sore, but we'll heal in no time."

I nod in agreement. "Yep. A little tender, but nothing that pain killers didn't help."

"Good, I'm glad. Let me know if you feel strange or out of the ordinary, okay?"

"Okay, but how will we know if Bella needs medical attention? She's always been strange and out of the ordinary," Jasper jokes.

"Go play in traffic," I deadpan, pushing him lightly.

Carlisle and Esme laugh, while Edward remains stoic by the front door, his dark butterscotch eyes never leaving me. I raise an eyebrow in question and only then does he look away.

"We brought you all some food. It's nothing much, but I wanted to do something to help," Esme says, waving a hand toward the covered dish still in Jasper's hands.

"That's so sweet of you. Thank you so much." my mom replies, beaming. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it so much."

My father chimes in, offering his gratitude, and while Rose and Jasper are caught up conversing with the adults, I slip over to Edward, figuring I better be polite and say hello … and try to figure out what the hell he's doing here without his siblings.

Shit, I feel so awkward. I wish this guy came with a user manual or maybe a flashing sign that would tell me what his current mood is.

"You can come in further if you want. We don't bite."

His lips quirk in a half-smile. "Maybe I do."

"Not a surprise there," I say with a snort. He blinks in surprise but says nothing else.

"So …" I rock back on my heels, wondering what the hell I say now. "How are you?"

My question comes out awkwardly, but I can't help it. Awkward is the best that's going to happen here.

"Fine." His reply is short, but not unkind. "You?"

"I answered that already."

"Not really. Rosalie answered; you added on." He pauses for a moment before speaking. "You look … tired. Are you sleeping well?"

"Wow, you sure know how to build up a girl's self-esteem."

Honestly, I am pretty tired. All I've been having are bad dreams, filled with Bree's crying parents, Royce's glaring face, rough touches, and rivers of blood pouring in from every angle, drowning me over and over.

They have woken me up more than once and disturbed me more than I care to admit, but I haven't mentioned this to anyone. I didn't want to worry my mother or Rose because I knew they would fawn over me and I can't handle all that attention.

"Are you okay?" he questions, his hand coming up to my face, plucking a piece of popcorn from my hair before deftly flicking it into the grass.

"I'll be fine."

He stares at me for a long moment, his head tilted as he studies me. Before it gets tense or awkward, he nods, and I take the opportunity to change the subject.

"Where are Alice and Emmett? Or did you make a special trip?"

He looks down, seemingly embarrassed. "I'm going somewhere with my parents, and they insisted I come in and say hello. They thought it would be rude if I sat in the car."

"Way to use your manners," I joke.

His lips quirk in a slight smile. "I use them on occasion."

"Really? I couldn't tell." Surprisingly, I find myself smiling too, but it quickly falls as the scab on my lip breaks open, blood beading instantly.

Crap.

His eyes zone in on my lip and he swallows thickly more than once, the muscles of his neck taut and straining against his skin.

A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, and I take a step back on rubbery legs to where the adults are conversing.

Edward's eyes snap to mine at the movement, and I notice they're darker—almost black. He takes one deep breath and spits out a goodbye before darting to the sleek charcoal Mercedes parked at the curb, throwing himself in the backseat.

Once he's in the car, he turns to stare, his expression unreadable.

For a long moment, I stand there, watching him. I thought we had gotten past this. Last night, he had no problem being by me, and now we're back to this?

_Wow._

"Is everything all right, Bella? You look a little … irritated," Esme remarks, gazing at me with concern. Her eyes dart to my lip, and she looks away rapidly.

Carlisle comes up next to her, and he shakes his head, though I do detect a small smile on his lips as he gazes between the car and me. I have to wonder if he knows about the "relationship" Edward and I have. Does he think it's funny? I suppose it can be rather comical at times to an outsider, though I have to admit I do get a little thrill when Edward gets riled up.

I shake my head, prepared to refute her claims, but something pops into my head, and I know I _need _to ask it now. "Dr. C, I have a question. A medical one."

"Of course, Bella, go ahead." He looks at me, all serious and concerned. It makes me feel guilty for a split second, but I let the feeling pass.

"What would you say about someone who acts like he hates you one minute, then is nice the next and goes back and forth? Are they disturbed? Or just a jackass?"

Carlisle looks severely amused as his wife presses her face into his arm to smother her laughter.

He coughs lightly, his eyes alight with humor. After a moment, he regains control of his emotions, but not by much. His lips twitch, and he plasters a serious expression on his face as he replies to my question. "A lot of things come into account. It could be a disorder of some kind. It's hard to tell from a glance."

Just like I thought.

"Are we speaking about anyone in particular here?"

"No, not at all," I reply innocently. "Just wondering. Thanks."

Carlisle laughs, nodding. "Well, if anyone ever comes to mind, let me know. I'll definitely want to speak with them."

"I will."

Everyone says their goodbyes, and as the elder Cullens walk to their car, I wave at Edward with a cheery smile. He scowls, but the look quickly fades as his mother gets into the car and twists in her seat to speak with him.

My mother comes to stand beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and squeezing.

"Edward is a nice boy."

"For a crazy person, sure."

She sighs and lets it go, allowing me to join Rose and Jasper in the living room once more.

8*8*8*8*8*8

Late afternoon the next day, Dad is on edge; he checks his phone every minute, mutters a curse, and attempts to watch what we've put on the television. His right leg bounces, his foot creating an irregular tapping soundtrack that surprisingly fits with Rose's romance choice.

Mom has tried to calm him several times, but he simply murmurs an apology, is silent for thirty seconds, and the cycle starts again. We've asked him what's wrong many times, but Mom simply defers our attention, telling us we shouldn't concern ourselves.

Somehow, I think I know.

I think Dad is waiting for news on Royce. Sure, it could be any of his cases, but if it were, he'd be at the kitchen table, files spread out around him. Since he's not doing that, it's most likely about _him. _The one case Dad can't touch because of his relationship to us.

Finally, two hours into Dad's nervous fidgeting, his cell phone rings. He scrambles up from his recliner and rushes into his room. Thirty minutes later, he comes down the stairs, a megawatt smile on his face.

"Charlie, what is it? Is it good news?" my mom implores while Rose, Jasper, and I exchange apprehensive glances.

"Come into the kitchen; all of you."

Dad takes a seat at the kitchen table, waiting for us.

"I've been talking to a friend in Port Angeles regarding Royce's case. He's been kind enough to keep me in the loop and let me know what's been going on." He stops, brushing a hand over his mustache. "Apparently, this isn't the second time Royce has attacked someone," he tells us, referring to Rose's attack freshman year. "Three other girls have come forward since the news of his arrest. They weren't as lucky as you were, girls."

The implication is clear, and we're clouded in a heavy silence as we think of the horrors those girls had gone through.

Rose meets my gaze for a split second, giving me a tight smile, before returning her eyes to Dad, who clears his throat and begins talking again.

"They didn't go to the police because they knew about his father's connections, but luckily, they did have evidence to back up their claims. They were smart enough to keep their clothes in plastic bags and photograph their injuries when they occurred, just in case."

Dad shifts in his chair, obviously uncomfortable with whatever he's about to say next. "In addition to _that, _there's been … video evidence of his attacks. Apparently, he recorded what he did with a hidden camera. They were sent in anonymously a couple of days ago."

"Am I—" Rose starts, only to stop and clear her throat. She shifts in the chair as the unspoken question hangs there.

Dad gives her a small, sad smile.

Her head falls into her hands as she cries, her muffled sobs filling the kitchen. Jasper pulls her into his arms before anyone can move, and he whispers into her ear furiously. The rest of us gravitate nearer to her, placing a hand wherever we can reach, offering our silent support. Minutes later, Rose calms and takes a deep breath, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves.

Moving my hand up, I grasp her hand as tightly as I dare to with my sore fingers.

"Sorry," she meekly says, her voice cracking.

Dad waves her off and grabs her free hand, squeezing tightly while Mom stands behind her, running her fingers through her hair.

"With all that," Dad continues, "There's a strong case against Royce now; there's no way he can get away with what he's done. From what I hear, his lawyers are scrambling, but there's too much evidence against him. Royce _is _going to jail. For good."

My mother squeals and dances over to Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughs with her, the sound more relieved than joyful. Jasper starts clapping and hooting in happiness, stomping his feet on the ground. I, too, find myself with a huge smile on my face as I cheer.

"What about his father? He's friends with the mayor. Can't he just pull strings again, like last time?"

Silence settles upon the room with Rose's question, but the relieved atmosphere doesn't abate.

Dad shakes his head. "Not this time. There're too many victims with too much proof; the mayor won't get involved if he knows what's good for him."

"But what if he does?" she stresses.

"_If _he does, then we take it to a higher platform. But honestly, I doubt he'll get involved this time. First, there's been media coverage right from the start; second, everyone knows what Royce did, _and _the girls' families went to the media. He _won't _get away with it. I promise you. Plus, Royce has been in jail longer than he was last time. I'm sure Royce's father has already tried to pull strings, and he's been unsuccessful. I'd say Royce is going to get what's coming to him."

Rose nods and takes in a shuddering breath. Jasper wraps an arm around her shoulder and squeezes, giving her a small smile.

"You okay, sis?"

"Yeah." She breathes. "I'm … relieved. Simply and utterly relieved."

"As we all are," my mom says, plopping down on my dad's lap and smiling, the both of them looking relaxed and quite pleased.

"Who sent the videos?" The question is out of the blue, and we all stare at Rose with shock. I understand why she's curious and probably feeling a little exposed.

I wish with everything within me that Rose didn't have to go through this. Those videos getting released to the police are a good thing, in my opinion. At least now, the truth is out there, and everyone knows what he's capable of doing.

Looking at everyone, I can tell we're on the same wavelength. We care about Rose's well-being, but the bigger picture is now, Royce won't be able to hurt Rose or anyone else anymore. This situation is definitely a double-edged sword.

Dad recovers first, shaking his head. "They don't know. They were sent through an untraceable email. Now, of course, the account has been deleted so there's no way to know."

Rose nods but looks skeptical, and it seems like she's a million miles away.

"What is it?" I question.

"Nothing. Just thinking."

8*8*8*8*8

On Wednesday, after some much-needed rest and recuperation, we return to school. Everyone stops to stare at us as we exit the car, whispering behind their hands and pointing.

_Very subtle._

Rose holds her head high with her shoulders squared and marches into school, ignoring everyone's frantic whispers, pointing, and gawking around us.

Inside isn't any better. Everyone's conversations come to a halt as we enter, their eyes trailing after us. Once we pass them, their furious whispers resume, their babbles running together. I can't make anything out, but I definitely hear key words like _Rosalie, Royce, bruises, _and_ attack._ Since their faces are shocked and somewhat sympathetic, I surmise half of them are on Rose's side; it's good to know some of them have common sense and a heart.

Jasper's eyes burn with fury as he hears the whispers and notices the stares. His hands twitch at his sides every so often, like he's itching to punch someone. Irritation and annoyance are rolling off him in waves, and I find myself gritting my teeth alongside him.

Knowing his temper is going to pop at any moment, I slug him in the shoulder to get his attention. His gaze swings over to me, furious. I meet his hard stare with one of my own before I count to ten in my head, hoping to calm myself down.

"Think of happy things," I whisper through a tight jaw. "Raindrops on flowers … skipping through grassy fields … musicals about magical nannies." He's fighting a smile, but I keep going, slowly feeling my anger abate. "Presents and puppies … Lauren's orange Oompa-Loompa tan last year."

He snorts and shakes his head with a slight smile, thoroughly distracted.

Rose comes to a halt, and I look over her shoulder, surprised to see one of the girls Rose used to hang out with walk up to her. The three of us watch incredulously as she steps in front of Rose, smiling softly and waving like she hadn't been a part of bullying Rose for years. Jasper and I flank Rose's sides, warily watching the girl whose name I had long forgotten and have no desire to remember.

"Rosalie," she starts, her voice timid. "I'm _so_ sorry about what happened."

"What are you talking about?" Rose's voice is fierce.

The girl blinks, her mouth open partially as she realizes this interaction isn't going to be smooth sailing as she had probably thought.

"About ... Royce. I'm sorry we didn't believe you."

"Oh, so _now_ you believe me? After other girls come forward? After all his dirty secrets are released for the world to see?! After he attacks my cousin and me again! _Now _you believe me when his father's connections can't get him out of trouble?"

"N-no," she stutters. "I mean, yes! We believe you. We feel so bad about it. He sure fooled us all." A nervous laugh leaves her as she looks everywhere but at Rose.

Rose shakes her head, an astonished look on her face. I'm sure it matches the look on Jasper and mine. Rose's eyes scan over the crowd and stop at something at the end of the hall. She's looking at the Cullen crew—Emmett in particular, who looks rather satisfied and smug as he nods at Rose. Next to him is Alice, who is smiling, seemingly pleased, and Edward … Edward is watching me with furrowed brows and something akin to worry on his face, which is extremely odd.

As soon as the thought comes, I push it away. He probably has a wedgie or something, and it's making him uncomfortable.

"You can talk to me or any of us, if you need to, really. We're here for you," the girl says, breaking me from my thoughts.

Rose scoffs. "I needed friends three years ago. I've had time to adjust without you. So, thanks but no thanks. I don't want fake-ass, fair-weather friends. But ... in the future, ladies, if a friend tells you she was assaulted, believe her first. She's the victim, and you should care about her. Instead, you girls chose to believe the cute, rich, connected monster, so you can all go to hell."

Unable to help myself, I laugh, quite loudly. The girl looks down and away, her face turning red before she scurries to join the rest of her group, who quickly disperse down the hall.

The Cullens walk up then, Alice coming to stand in-between Jasper and me, Emmett at Rose's side and Edward standing to my right.

Immediately, Rose pulls Emmett away and begins whispering furiously, looking none too pleased.

"Good morning," Alice murmurs, her hand dangerously close to Jasper's. To my surprise, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he offers a shy, nervous smile as he greets her.

Our attention is drawn to Rose and Emmett, the former glaring with a slight snarl on her face.

"Answer me, damn it!" She hisses.

Jasper and Alice step up toward the pair, trying to diffuse the situation and calm them down before the curious teachers come to investigate.

Edward shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark wash jeans, his gaze trained on the ground. When it's obvious he's not going to say anything, I step toward the group, but I'm pulled back by Edward's low voice.

"Are you … well?" His tone is forced, his words pushed out through tight lips.

I shrug. "I'm okay. Thanks."

He looks at me disbelievingly but doesn't argue. I blow out a breath, wondering what his deal is. Does he not want to talk to me? Does he not know what to say? Why do I care so much?

_Well, I'm not all for this ride, yo-yo Cullen._

Shaking my head, I head toward Rose, who is still looking very displeased with Emmett.

"It's a simple yes or no question. Did you do it?" Rose spits out, enunciating the last words vehemently. "You promised me that night; you said you would make him pay and he'd get arrested. Was it you? Did you find those videos and send them in?"

Emmett scratches the back of his neck, looking unsure and very uncomfortable as he shifts from foot to foot. "Does it matter? The scumbag is in jail now, and he's not getting out. It doesn't matter what I did or didn't do."

"It matters to me." She pauses, her next words low and childlike. "Emmett, look at me."

He hesitates for a moment before he looks into her eyes. Whatever she sees there has her gasping, her hand coming up to muffle her cries.

"It was you," she says. "You saw them."

He starts to deny it, but Rose shuts him down. "Don't lie to me. You have that look … the same look I've seen in Jasper's eyes; in my uncle and aunt's. It's pity. You … pity … me."

The last three words are gasped out between muffled sobs against her hands. She starts to back away, blindly reaching for Jasper, but Emmett steps forward, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Rosalie, no—"

She jerks away from his touch, her eyes wide, red-rimmed, and glassy. Her gaze darts around everywhere, her breathing coming out in fractured gasps.

"I've got to … I've got to go," she mumbles, fumbling for her keys. She drops them twice, hitting the linoleum with loud _thwacks _each time they fall.

Emmett reaches for her, but she backs away. "Don't touch me."

"Rose, don't," I tell her, my voice slightly pleading. "Don't run."

"I'm not running," she snaps. Her hard gaze softens, and she sighs heavily, scrubbing her face with her hands. "Okay, I'm running. I just … I need … I can't deal with this!" Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Emmett wince and look down. "I need to go. I'll see you later."

Without another word, she spins around and races down the hall, through the double doors that lead into the parking lot. Before Jasper or I can move, Emmett tears after her, a determined look on his face.

I exchange a look with Jasper, nodding my head toward the door, silently asking if we should follow. He nods, and we follow her, but neither she nor Emmett are anywhere in sight.

"You think she'll be okay?"

"She will," Jasper replies with a firm nod. "She's strong. If anyone can get through this, it's Rosalie."

8*8*8*8

Angela ambushes me after lunch, and in an uncharacteristic act, throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Behind her, Jessica stands by much more timidly, waving. What surprises me is the fact that he doesn't break eye contact with me. She holds my gaze with a small, sweet, but nervous grin.

"I'm so glad you're okay. How's Rosalie?"

"She's … good. A lot tougher than she looks," I answer.

"Of course she is. She's your cousin."

I smirk and turn my attention to Jessica. "Hey, Jess. How are you?" I ask, looking at her meaningfully. I hope she spoke to her parents about how she feels so they can find a way to help her. She doesn't deserve to feel anything less than great.

"I'm g-g-good, B-B-Bella. M-my p-parents and I ta-talked. Ev-everyth-thing i-is o-okay."

"I'm glad."

"I-I'm ha-happy yo-you're all ri-right, B-B-Bella."

"It takes a lot to take me down," I scoff.

She giggles, the sound no more than a whisper, before bidding us farewell and shuffling off to her locker, giving the door a wide berth as Edward, Jasper, and Alice step out.

"Is she really okay?" I ask Angela as Alice steps up, leaving Edward and Jasper to talk amongst themselves.

"I think so. Over the weekend, she and her parents came to talk with my father for counseling. I overheard their conversation. Can I confide in you both?" She looks a touch guilty, but I know if it means Jessica being happy, she'll do whatever she can to make that possible.

"Of course."

"Okay. As I said, I overheard their conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley found a program for Jessica in Port Angeles to help with her stuttering, but they can't afford it. You should have seen Jessica's face! She looked so hopeful and so sad at the same time. I really think Jessica would be happy if she got to go, so I was thinking of starting a fundraiser or something. Maybe it'll be good for two things. One, to help her get into the program and two, show her people really do care about her."

"That's a good idea," I murmur. Already, I've thought of something to help.

My parents have told me my paintings would sell for a pretty penny if I ever chose to part with one of them, so perhaps I could sell one to help Angela's fundraiser.

_Let's hope they're not wrong._

Alice gives her acceptance over the idea and starts rambling off idea after idea on how to help.

"Wow, that's a lot of ideas off the top of your head," Angela remarks, overwhelmed. I nod in agreement, eying her curiously.

She ignores us, shrugging. "I know it's a lot, but it's a start, right?"

Angela smiles softly. "Right. Thank you, Alice. With that enthusiasm, I have no doubt we'll help Jessica and her parents raise the money in no time."

"What are you thinking about, Bella?" Jasper asks, looking over at me with a questioning gaze.

Edward is staring at me as well, his head tilted slightly to the right.

"Huh? Nothing."

"I know you," he says. "I know when you're planning something. Although, you don't have a sinister look about you, so I'm hoping it's legal."

"Pssh. Like I'd advertise it? That's how dumb-ass people get caught. People like you."

The three of them laugh while Edward stands by, looking bored. I ignore his attitude for now and lean toward Angela so I can whisper. "We'll all get together and talk something out, okay?"

"Thank you, Bella. I have to get going. My class is on the other side of the school."

Waving goodbye to Angela, I turn to the others, noting Alice has spaced out, her eyes closed. Edward stares at her curiously before turning his gaze to me, an eyebrow raised. I match his look because I have no idea why he's looking at me like that.

Jasper draws Edward's attention toward him, talking animatedly with his hands, his face lit up with excitement.

Alice snaps out of it before I can say anything, shooting me a huge grin, looking a second away from squealing.

"What? Why do you look so happy?"

She simply shrugs with a cunning smile. "You've got something planned; I can't wait to see what it is!"

I laugh, wondering how she knows. I thought I had a better poker face than that. "And how do you know I have something planned?"

She smirks, tapping her temple. "I have my ways."

"I know all about your psychic ways. I've seen enough of it," I joke, but it falls flat. Alice exchanges a wary look at Edward, who is now focused on his sister as Jasper rambles on, looking none too pleased. Her gaze drops to the floor, wincing at Edward's hard stare.

My statement _was _just a joke, but with the way they were acting, it seems like it's anything but one.

Could there be truth to my words?

More often than not, Alice has been spaced out, with her eyes turning into that strange milky quality. At times, she seems to know more than she should.

Like Jessica, for example.

Why did she tell me to go into the bathroom at that precise moment? And how did she know she went to the principal?

Sure, she could have seen her on her way to class, but having seen her schedule before, I'm pretty sure she can't get to her afternoon classes that way.

_Holy shit. It could be possible she's psychic._

I've seen some strange things in my own house with Rose and Jasper, knowing when the other is hurt or upset. They've even finished each other's sentences and knew when they were needed, but I always assumed it was a twin thing.

Although, they both have known when other people in our family needed them, so it's not exclusively limited to the two of them.

_Is it possible? It looks that way. It really does. _

Audibly, I gasp and take half a step back, my eyes widening as I stare at a nervous-looking Alice.

I've seen enough paranormal shows to know that weird things happen to people almost every day. People can do unexplainable things in the most extraordinary ways, so it's not that far off that Alice could be one of those people.

Jasper clears his throat, tugging the sleeves of his shirt as his gaze darts between the siblings.

"Is everything okay?" he questions in a low, strained murmur.

Edward nods once, his face still a mask of displeasure.

"We should get to class," Jasper says, his eyes still flickering between the pair.

The first syllable of Alice's name barely passes my lips before she rushes off, mumbling about being late. Jasper exchanges a quick, wide-eyed look with me, his eyes asking me everything he can't verbally say.

_Is everything okay? What happened? _

I do a combination of a shrug and nod, before waving him off. I'm sure we'll most likely be talking about this later.

Nodding once, he heads off to his next class. Turning, I see Edward is still standing there, his hard look now fixed upon me. If I were in his place, I know I would be freaking out at the thought of this getting out and someone I care about getting hurt.

People can be cruel, especially to those who are different; and while I have complete faith the Cullens are more than capable of taking care of themselves, I know they don't want their secrets spilled.

_Well, they don't have to worry about that with me. I'm not a snitch._

Like his sister, he takes off before I can say anything, but I catch up to him easily.

"Hey, stop for a minute."

He stops, his eyes fixed on something behind me.

"Listen, about … _that,_" I hint, trying to be mindful of the other people around us. "You don't have to worry—"

"Why would I worry? There's nothing to be concerned about."

"Of course not. I wouldn't—"

He steps forward, and my laughter stops as he interrupts me again. "Just keep your nose out of our business," he hisses.

Jerking back, I blink rapidly, my mouth popping open at his vicious tone.

Seeing my reaction, he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he scowls. "I knew Alice getting close to you was a bad idea," he mumbles. "Never mind you and me getting along."

Livid at his words, I snap my jaw closed and breathe heavily through my nose. Heat rises from my chest to the apples of my cheeks, and I'm sure my skin is as red as a tomato. My hands ball into fists at my sides, my fingernails scream in protest as they press into the fleshy part of my palm, but I ignore it.

My blood rushes through my system, crashing in my ears and drowning out all other sounds besides my thoughts.

I want to tell him off, to scream every insult I can think of at him and maybe throw a couple of heavy objects at him for good measure. The fury coursing through my veins is in agreement, incensed at his assumptions.

I had thought we had gotten past all of this hostility, but it's obvious everything polite that's happened between us was just an act.

Instead of allowing my anger to take over and tell him exactly what I think of him and his assumptions, I give him a hard stare, hoping every single ounce of what I'm feeling shoots into him.

When it's obvious I'm not going to say anything, his hostile look fades into one of puzzlement, and he takes a step back, eyes wide and unblinking.

I smirk at this as I storm away, thoroughly done with him and his asinine attitude.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**One step forward and two steps back with these two! *sigh* ****Don't worry, though. Edward will get it together. Eventually. ;)**

**(I won't give too much away, but I will say this about the next chapter ... it prompted my beta to say "Finally!") **

**Oh, and thank you to everyone who offered kind words after the AN from the last chapter. They really meant a lot.**

**Things haven't changed much in my RL, but I don't want to keep you guys waiting for updates. As of right now, I still don't know for sure when I'll be able to update regularly. Whenever I have a moment of free time, however, I'll post. I promise I won't leave you hanging for too long. Thank you for understanding. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews. I appreciate your support so much! **

**Big thanks to Fran, Monica03 and Mr G and Me for all of their help with this story. (Any mistakes you see are my own.) **

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

_**Won't be back to drive you home from school. You'll have to find another ride home. Sorry.**_

"Great," I sigh, throwing my cell back in my bag.

I'm not angry at Rose; I understand the need to get out for a bit. I do wish she would have arranged another way home for us, though. Walking that far isn't something I enjoy.

Jasper comes moments later, his cell phone in his hand. His eyebrows furrow together as he types out a response, looking up every so often to make sure he doesn't bump into anyone.

When he reaches me, he shakes his phone in my direction once before pocketing it. "Did you see Rosalie's message?"

"Yeah."

Slowly, his head tilts and his eyes narrow. "You okay? You look a little upset."

"It's been a long day."

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head. I don't want to get into it; I just want to go home and close myself off for a few hours.

He says nothing; he simply stares for a moment, his blue eyes penetrating mine like he's trying to read my mind. An icy, trickling sensation slithers from the middle of my forehead, slowly trailing to the back of my head, leaving behind a dull numbing pain.

Pressing the heel of my hand to the center of my forehead, I hope to push away the pain. Surprisingly, after a moment, it does.

"Bella, I know you're not doing well," he murmurs, leaning close to me, so he's not overheard. "It's obvious; plus, I know you go downstairs in the middle of the night."

I blow out an annoyed breath. I had thought I was stealthy in my late-night crusades for a distraction from my nightmares, but I guess I'm not. I suppose I could just bring some snacks up before I sleep, but after I wake from a nightmare, the last thing I want to do is stay in my room.

I'll have to come up with some other plan, so he doesn't come out when I'm down there. I'm not ready to talk about my dreams yet and to be honest, I don't know if I'll ever be. I hate to think about them, much less talk about them.

"Jasper, please," I say, trying to convey how much I _don't _want to talk about this. "Not now."

Thankfully, he takes the hint. "You want a ride home? We can give you a ride … or you could come with us. It would be a great distraction."

I raise an eyebrow in question, following his line of sight to see who the "_we" _are.

He's staring at Alice as she leans against Tyler's car, chatting with Angela. No doubt sensing our stares, she looks up and beams, waving energetically before returning her attention back to Angela.

I huff a laugh, amazed that he's going somewhere with Alice. Sure, as of late, they seem comfortable around each other, but his actions still surprised me.

"'We'? As in you and Alice?"

"No," he immediately interjects, a little too quickly, in my opinion. "I'm going with Ben and Tyler to the arcade. Alice and Angela are coming too."

Looking back, I see he's right. The others have joined my friends, in a loose circle, putting a bit of distance between themselves and Alice. Only Angela seems to be comfortable enough to stand a foot away from her.

"Ah. So it's a group thing." I snicker to myself, wanting to say it's a group _date, _but I know that won't go over well. "No thanks; you go and have fun."

A harsh sigh leaves him, and he frowns, knowing the direction of my thoughts. "It's not like that. She's coming with Angela to discuss something. Plus, she's kind of cool."

"I'm glad you're giving her a chance."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" he questions after a moment. "It'll be fun."

"No, thanks. I've got homework."

Alice comes over before he can reply, tentatively smiling. Her fingers twist together in front of her, her thumbnails scratching at the cuticles. "Hey, Bella. Are you coming with us?"

"No, I need to go home. But while you're here …" I place a hand out to Jasper, telling him to remain where he is. He nods and watches through narrowed eyes as I lead Alice a few feet away. "I wanted to apologize about earlier and I—"

She places a hand on my arm, her eyes wide as she rushes through her words. "There's nothing to apologize for. "

For a moment, I simply stare, wondering if I was misreading something or looking into things too much. But deep down, I know I'm not. There have been too many coincidences for my suspicions about Alice to be anything else.

Knowing she doesn't want the subject brought up again, I smile. "Have a good time at the arcade."

"You sure you don't want to join us?" Alice questions again, looking between Jasper and me as he rejoins us. She bites her lip as she stares at him, a hopeful glint in her eye. I wonder if she sees this as something more than he does.

I'm tempted to say something because I don't want either one of them getting hurt, but my mother's words fly through my head, and I know I can't. This needs to be handled between them, and them alone.

Moments later, Jasper catches Alice's stare and clears his throat, his gaze dropping to the ground as he steps backward, scuffing the heel of his sneaker on the ground.

Sympathy washes through me as I see my friend's face fall and the light in her eyes dim a bit. She smiles at me, though there's no warmness to it; it's a smile of someone trying to appear brave and put together. I wish I could give her a hug, but I'm not getting in the middle of this.

"I'm sure," I reply, hoping to break the sudden tension. "I'm walking home. A little exercise will be good for me. I think. But, listen, if you don't see me tonight, that means I died."

Jasper rolls his eyes and starts to speak, but I cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"If that should happen, I want you to have … nothing. Don't touch my shit. Seriously, don't touch _anything_."

Jasper breaks out in a loud burst of laughter. "What will you do about it?"

"You underestimate me. I _will _haunt your ass."

"I believe you. All right, I'll see you later. Be careful!

Alice waves, her steps slow as she walks backward. "Can we … can I call you tonight, Bella?"

"Of course. See you later."

They both wave, heading toward Tyler's beat-up blue minivan and jumping inside. I wave as they pass, heading in the opposite direction from home.

Knowing I have no other option except walking, I head out. It'll be at least twenty minutes until I'm home because I'm a slow walker, so I better get going.

As I turn onto the road, a black car pulls up beside me, and I look over, gritting my teeth. Edward's in the driver's seat glaring at me through the passenger window. I roll my eyes and pick up my pace, keeping my gaze studiously forward.

"What are you doing?" His voice is harsh and scolding, which only pisses me off more.

"Swimming," I deadpan.

"You're walking home after you were recently injured?"

"One, it's none of your business, so fuck off. Two, it's none of your business what I do. Three, Royce is in jail, and four, I repeat for emphasis: _it's none of your damn busines_s. _Fuck. Off._"

Tires screech against the asphalt, and a second later, his car door opens, and he stalks toward me, his feet pounding unforgivingly on the concrete.

"Get in the car."

Scoffing, I step around him, fully intending on breaking out into a sprint as soon I'm clear, but his hand grasping my elbow halts me. His skin touches mine, and I shiver, a string of reprimands flying through my head at my reaction.

What is this? Hormones? It has to be hormones.

I spin around, glaring. "Do not touch me," I grind out through tight lips. "You don't get to tell me what to do, and you certainly don't get to touch me."

He removes his hand but doesn't step back. "I can't believe Jasper let you walk home after everything that's happened."

There's a muted ticking sound echoing in my ears, growing in intensity with each passing second. It takes me several moments to realize the sound is coming from _me, _as I grind my teeth together.

Taking a deep breath, I relax my jaw and focus on breathing steadily. "Jasper doesn't _let me _do anything. I'm my own person, and I don't need permission from anyone _except my parents _on what to do. And for the record, I don't live that far, so if you'll excuse me."

As I step around him again, I feel his hand grip my elbow once more. Wide-eyed, I look from him to his hand on my arm. Quickly, he snatches it away, shoving it in his pocket.

"You … you can't walk home."

"Why don't you take your own advice and keep your nose out of my life? After all, it was such a bad idea getting close to me."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's not … it's complicated. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's pretty cut and dry, Edward. There was no mysterious hidden meaning."

"It's just … you … you're different, and I don't know how to deal with that," he reluctantly admits.

"What does that even mean?"

"I can't explain it. Just, please … get in the car. I'll take you home."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I step back, my hip cocked slightly to the side. "No. You've given me no reason to do what you ask _or _to trust you. You've treated me like crap since I met you. So, thank you, but no. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Spinning around, I continue down the street. My footsteps falter as the low rumble of thunder meets my ears.

No. No, don't rain.

My silent pleas are ignored as the sky opens and drenches me within a matter of seconds.

"Of course," I mumble to myself. Tilting my head up toward the sky, I blink through the water falling onto my face. "Of course this has to happen, right?"

Even though I don't want to walk home in the rain, I still trudge on. It's not like I'll melt.

"Bella, this is ridiculous," Edward calls over the heavy downpour. Looking over my shoulder, I have to stop myself from gasping.

His hair is flattened and dark, almost black-looking as it hangs down on his forehead and temples. His long fingers push it back, giving him a slicked-back look that surprisingly suits him well. His shirt clings to his chest like a second skin, and I bite my tongue to make sure it's still in my mouth.

Oblivious to my drooling, Edward continues. "Please, let me give you a ride home and I'll … explain. Or try to, anyway. _Please_. You might get sick if you walk home in the rain."

I contemplate his offer for a moment. I want to tell him to go to hell and make a mad dash home, but he's right; I don't want to get sick. Plus, there's another part of me that _really _wants to hear what he has to say. My curiosity is a real bitch, sometimes.

Marching over to the passenger side of his car, I throw myself into the seat like a petulant child, even going as far as crossing my arms over my chest.

Because I'm nothing if not thorough.

Fluidly, he slides in next to me, and out of the corner of his eyes, he looks toward me. At my staring, he focuses his gaze straight ahead, cracking his window as he tenses and swallows audibly. I turn my head to the passenger window, watching as it fogs slightly with each exhale.

Edward drives carefully, his hands gently gliding over the steering wheel like a fine caress, maneuvering the vehicle easily through the wet streets and minuscule traffic of Forks. Thanks to the small town, Edward pulls into my driveway a few minutes later, letting the car run as he sits still, his hands in his lap.

"So? What's your explanation?" I inquire when it's obvious he's not going to say anything.

He turns to stare out of the window, sighing harshly.

"I'm not sure how to … It's just …" He blows out a huge breath, resting his head against the headrest, his eyes boring holes in the ceiling of the vehicle. "I can't explain it."

"You don't seem like an inarticulate person. I'm sure you can find the words."

"That!" he explodes. "You're sarcastic, and quite frankly, you're rude. I don't know how to speak or act around you."

"I'm only going off _your _attitude! And as for the other, how about you speak to me like … oh, I don't know ... like I'm a _person_! When I first met you, I was _nice_, if I recall. I apologized and tried to make light of the situation, but _you _were the one who was rude! Not to mention, ever since then, you've glared at me like I killed your dog or something. The only time you have _ever _been nice to me is when we've been alone. Do you know what that says to me? You're a jerk! That's what it says to me!"

Edward huffs, his eyes narrowing. "Why can't you be …?"

He trails off, but I know _exactly _what he's going to say. I've heard it enough times from Rose in the past.

"'Why can't I be' what? Normal?"

I wait for his answer, it's clear in his eyes.

"Normal according to whose definition?" I continue. "Yours? Our peers? Rose? I don't want to be normal. I _like _who I am and if you can't accept that, then tough. I'm not going to change myself to please anyone. Yes, I admit I can be a huge pain in the ass sometimes, believe me, I know. But that doesn't make me a horrible person. It makes me _real. _It makes me a real person with faults and problems and issues, just like everyone else. I've never been the person to filter my thoughts or stand down from a bully or let someone walk over me. I've always stood up for myself and my friends when the occasion calls for it. And yes, I am sarcastic and sometimes hard to be around, but that's just me. _That is who I am. _Just because you don't get that or like it doesn't mean I'm going to change the way I am so you'll like me. You don't like me? Fine. You don't _have _to; we," I say, pointing between the two of us, "don't have to be friends. The person I'm friends with is your sister; and speaking of, I really don't appreciate your comments earlier, either."

"I have to protect her and my family." His voice is hard, matching his steely gaze perfectly.

I match his gaze, never taking my eyes away from him as I speak.

"I get that," I reply softly, admiring his fierce need to protect his loved ones. "But don't be a jackass and make assumptions about me. I know we don't know each other that well, but if you have a concern about me, _ask me. _Alice is a good person. Have I noticed a few odd things about her? I have, but I wouldn't say a damn thing because it's no one's business outside of your family."

"I didn't think you'd—"

"Oh, please," I say with a scoff. Vaguely, I notice how close our faces are; if either one of us were to move, we'd definitely be kissing.

Grudgingly, my eyes flit down to his pouty lips, and I lick mine, my eyes darting back up his as I catch myself mid-action. Surprisingly, I notice his gaze on my lips, watching with rapt attention.

Clearing my throat, I continue, leaning back a little. "Don't lie. _That's _exactly what you thought I'd do; you thought I blab about it to anyone who would listen. And FYI, you're really not good at keeping secrets. Normally, you plaster on an innocent face and deny. Work on that, okay?"

His nostrils flare as his eyes narrow. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't know a—"

"I know plenty," I firmly interrupt, raising an eyebrow.

"You …" he says, growling out the word. Again, I lick my lips and shift, feeling a strange vibration surge through me at the sound. "You are so _stubborn _and so _pigheaded_!"

A frustrated bark of laughter flies from my lips as I turn once more, moving as close as I can without touching him. "Me? I'm stubborn and pigheaded? You're the one who—"

My rant is cut off by Edward's fingertips sliding over my cheeks and diving in my hair, his cold palms cradling my jaw. He stares at me for a second, his intention clear before he pulls me toward him, planting his lips on mine.

For a second, I'm frozen, eyes wide and unblinking as I stare at him.

Is Edward Cullen kissing _me? _The person he hates? The person I hate?

Slyly, I pinch my arm and gasp against the sting. Edward takes the opportunity to gently slide his tongue against mine, his lips never relenting.

A strange tingle spreads down to my toes as my face heats, and I find myself gripping his shoulders tightly in my hands, meeting his bruising kiss with one of my own as my thoughts run wild.

How dare he kiss me first?

How dare this frustrating creature be the best kisser I've ever experienced in my short life.

Honestly, I wouldn't mind doing this again.

Before I know what's happening, he pulls himself away and pushes back against the driver's side door, his head knocking lightly against the glass. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes dark and wide as he attempts to speak, but nothing comes out.

Belatedly, I realize I look similarly crazed as I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror.

Slowly, I fall back into the passenger seat, watching him from the corner of my eye.

"We kissed," he says, his head tilted to the side. He repeats this several times, confusion and astonishment laced in every syllable.

"Yeah." My voice is skeptical and slightly breathy. "We … we did … kiss."

"You kissed me!" he explodes, the look on his face not matching the tone of his words.

"You kissed me first!" My reply isn't very mature, but it's all I've got. "Why _did _you kiss me?"

"I don't …"

"You don't know? How can you not know? Do you just go around kissing unsuspecting girls for your 'shower time' or what?"

"It was either kiss you or kill you. You infuriate me."

"Yeah? Well, right back at you!"

He scowls and looks away. Looking out the passenger window, I bring my fingers up to my lips. They're still tingling, pulsing with the matching rhythm of my heart. Despite my fury over his actions, the only thing I want is to experience it another time.

"It seems like you enjoyed it more than you let on." Edward's voice is cocky, and I just know he has a stupid smirk on his stupid face.

"You weren't exactly fighting me off either."

I turn, ready to tell him off and maybe smack that cockiness out of him, even though I know that's not the best option. Those plans go out the window, however, when I see the look on his face.

"No, I definitely wasn't," he murmurs.

Lust and desire are painted clearly there, and the feelings are definitely contagious.

My belly tightens, and my entire body tingles. The air in the car thickens once more as his hands clench the fabric of his black jeans, the seams straining against the force. My own hands become clammy as I stare at him. A feeling of intense need churns in my stomach, and before I know it, I'm leaning toward him again, pulling Edward by the front of his shirt as my lips are once more glued to his.

His hands frame my face, his fingers cupping my jaw tenderly as his lips furiously work over mine. I give him as much as he gives me, pouring everything into the kiss. My anger, my frustration, and the desire that he's lit within me.

Stupid hormones.

I push him away when my chest begins to burn, and we stare at each other with wide, shocked eyes.

"I'm gonna … go," I breathlessly inform him, quickly unbuckling myself and rushing from the car. I want to get out of here before anything else happens.

I barely hear his muttered words of approval and something else I can't decipher before I slam the door shut and race inside.

Mom meets me at the door, brushing hair our of my face, her fingers tracing along the healing bruises.

"How are you feeling?"

I hesitate, the truth almost spilling from my lips. To be honest, I'm not doing too great. I'm sore and tired, but I don't want to tell her that. I don't want her to feel guilty or fuss over me. There's nothing she can really do besides what she's doing already.

"I'm okay."

She frowns at my vague answer and heaves a low sigh. "Be sure to take your medicine," she murmurs, nodding toward the kitchen.

I do as instructed, swallowing back the pills with a glass of milk.

"Who brought you home?" Mom asks, peering out the window near the door. Her face is a mixture of curiosity and glee, which doesn't help my mood. "What's wrong with your lips?"

Instead of answering, I change the subject, trying to get my mind off Edward's lips. "I, uh, pulled the skin off them. They're chapped as hell. Have you heard from Rose?"

"Yes, she called earlier and asked for some time off from school. Other than that, no, I haven't heard from her."

"She was upset earlier."

Mom hums sympathetically, curling an arm around my shoulders and squeezing. "She's going through a lot right now, but she'll be fine once all this with Royce goes away. You and I both know she's tougher than nails. Now, answer my question. Who brought you home, and why do you look flushed?"

My nose wrinkles and my shoulders slump forward. _Shit._ I thought I had her distracted.

"No one, and it's nothing."

"Don't you lie to me, Isabella Marie. I saw someone sitting in the front seat. Who was it?"

"Edward," I reluctantly admit.

"Did you punch him?" She looks back out the window at the sound of tires squealing.

"No," I reply, somewhat shocked she would jump to that conclusion. "Why?"

Mom smirks. "He was touching his lips."

I tingle from head to toe at the revelation, and I have to bite my tongue to stop the satisfied and cocky grin that wants to curl itself on my lips.

"I didn't punch him."

She hums with a knowing grin. "It's really nice he brought you home," Mom says. "He must like you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered. So sweet."

I snort at her words. Yes, Edward and I may have shared a kiss—okay, two—but there's no way we could ever like each other. I'm too much of a free spirit for him, and he's too uptight and demanding. But I will admit the chemistry between us is so good; my lips are _still_ tingling, and my heart is still pounding away in my chest.

Realizing my mother is waiting for a response, I tell her the same thing I've been telling her since I met him. "He doesn't like me. He's been rude to me since we've met and told me Alice shouldn't be my friend."

"Why?" she questions, confused and somewhat deflated.

"No idea." I shrug. "I'm not going to worry about it though."

"But why would he take you home if he didn't like you?"

"I don't know, Mom. He's an enigma."

She mumbles something under her breath, and I quickly make my escape upstairs, shouting back about the homework I have to do. Once in my room, I change into a pair of yoga pants and a long-sleeved shirt, burrowing down in my nook and cracking in on my homework, trying not to think of Edward's kiss and how his lips felt against mine.

8*8*8*8*8*8

A couple of hours later, Mom breezes into the room, a small cooler in her hand.

"Your father has to work late, so I'm going to bring him some dinner. You're all on your own tonight, okay?"

"Sure," I mumble, trying to get a math problem that doesn't make sense, no matter which mathematical formula I use.

Ten minutes later, my cell rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Alice's subdued voice comes through the line. "Are you … okay?"

Clearing my throat, I start to speak, but nothing comes out. _What_ do I say? _How _do I say it? For the first time in years, I feel apprehensive about how this conversation will go. I don't want to say the wrong thing and upset her, nor do I want to make her feel uncomfortable.

Realizing I'm being stupid, I shake off the wave of nervousness and remind myself that this is _Alice. _She's a little weird, but she's my friend, and she's a good person. Anything beyond that is trivial.

"Yeah," I reply, my voice surprisingly strong. "Just doing homework. You?"

She makes a sound of disgust that thoroughly fits my thoughts on the subject before replying.

"Taking a break, actually. I thought I'd call you. To be honest, I _forced _myself to call you. I didn't know if you'd want to talk to me." She pauses for a moment, her voice tentative when she speaks for a second time. "Listen, I found out what Edward said to you. I'm sorry about—"

"Don't apologize for your brother," I interrupt. "You're not in control of his behavior."

"I wish I was," she mutters. "Anyway, he's just being difficult right now. Give him time."

Time? For what? I don't need to give him time because I'm not waiting for anything. Except for graduation, and that can't come soon enough, then I can forget all about him.

I release a breath, feeling guilty about that last thought. I know Alice probably wants her brother and me to get along, but I doubt it'll ever happen. We're too different.

"Anyway," she continues, "I told him not to worry about anything. He blew everything out of proportion."

Briefly, I pause, wondering if this is the best time to bring up my assumptions. I don't want to make her uncomfortable, but I'm also dying for answers and reassurance.

Well, I suppose she can just say no.

"Are you …"

Before I can continue with my question, she changes the subject, her voice now chipper and carefree.

"You know what would be fun? If we had a girl's day! What do you say? We can ask Rosalie. Do you think she'll join us?"

I pause, wondering if I should press the issue, but it's obvious she doesn't want to talk about it.

"I doubt it, but you can ask her."

"I will," she replies firmly. "Before long, she'll be putty in my hands."

"I'm sure." I laugh.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me of the time, and I sigh, relaying my need for food before murmuring a goodbye.

Downstairs, I snort a laugh as I hear Jasper snoring from his room. Through the kitchen window, I look out toward the driveway, for Rose's car.

She's still not here yet and has yet to send a message on when she'll be home, but I'm sure she's okay. If she wasn't, Jasper would be the first to know.

After all, he was the first to know something was wrong when she was attacked freshman year, so I have every bit of faith he wouldn't be sleeping if she were in danger.

I stare out, my mind drifts to where Edward and I sat in his car, sharing a bruising kiss.

My lips tingle as the scene plays out in my head, my cheeks filling with warmth as I recall the heady sensation I felt. My fingertip grip the cool sink, the joints and muscles protesting at the action. My body floods with heat and my breathing deepens.

Shaking my head, I push the incident from my mind, feeling foolish.

It was obviously fueled by hormones. That's all it was, and I need to find a way to forget about it.

Besides, it was nothing special; I've had better kisses in the past.

Okay, not really. But I can try to convince myself.

"I'm hungry."

Spinning around, I see Jasper stagger into the kitchen, his curly blond hair a mess on his head. Absently, he scratches his stomach with a loud yawn, his jaw popping.

"There's nothing to eat," he complains, closing the fridge with a huff.

"There's a full pantry and freezer, liar. Just admit you're too damn lazy to cook something."

He touches his middle finger to his nose, not denying my statement. "How was your walk home?" he asks with a teasing smirk. "I see you survived."

"Barely. And I didn't walk. I got a ride."

"Oh? From who?"

"Edward." As soon as I say his name, my lips start tingling again, and I curse myself for acting like a girly-girl who got kissed by the most popular boy in school.

Edward Cullen will pay for this. _Mark my words._

He laughs roughly, coming to stand by me and bumping his shoulder into mine. "Don't sound so excited. You'll show how you really feel about him."

"I know. I'm an open book."

"Yeah, control that shit," he replies with sarcasm. "Did you two talk or anything?"

I frown. What is it with everyone wanting to know what happened between Edward and me?

"Uh, sort of."

He gives me an expectant look, and I roll my eyes, continuing with the least amount of information I can.

"He said I infuriate him."

"Well, duh. Anyone can see you two piss each other off. What did you say?"

"Nothing. I left."

"Good for you," he praises, patting my head.

I knock his hand off, scowling. "Don't pet me like a dog, asshat. How was your afternoon with Alice?"

A choked cough leaves him, and he glares, trying to regain control of himself. "It wasn't just with Alice; Tyler, Ben, and Angela were there too."

Slowly, I nod. "Right," I reply, drawing out the word. "So? How was it?"

"It was … fine. She's a lot of fun," he trails off, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "She super competitive, though."

"Mmm. Sounds like you're growing fond of her."

Unamused, he shoots me a hard glare but jerks a shoulder upward. "I don't know. I'm trying to give her a chance. It would be easier if I attempted to get along with her since I'm friends with her brothers. Besides, she's not all bad when she's not staring at me all weird-like."

I nod in understanding, and before I can change the subject, he speaks again.

"Speaking of weird, what was going on earlier today at school? Between Edward, Alice, and you?"

I shrug, not wanting to get into this. "No idea."

"Really? It definitely looked like something. Maybe I should talk to him."

"No. Just leave it alone, it's fine," I tell him, waving a dismissive hand.

He's silent for a long moment, a pensive look on his face. When I see he isn't going to give up, I level him with a look. I would hate it if he got in the middle; even though I hate to admit it, Edward has been a good friend to my cousin. I don't want him to lose that.

"Let _me _handle it."

"Fine," he says with a heavy sigh. "Where's Uncle Charlie and Aunt Renee?"

I quickly relay Mom's message and Jasper nods, looking around the kitchen. "Well, what are we going to eat?"

"I'm fine with sandwiches."

"Fine with me too." He collapses into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "Make me one, will you?"

"You can make your own. I'm not your maid."

A disgruntled noise sounds out behind me as I rummage through the fridge. I ignore him, making my own before escaping into the living room. Jasper takes his sandwich into his room to play video games, leaving me in control of the television.

An hour later, Rose comes staggering in, her eyes red-rimmed and her face pale.

"Hey," I greet, muting the movie. "You okay? You were gone for a long time."

"I-I'm fine."

Any idiot can see she's anything but fine; her voice is cracking and hoarse, but I don't press the issue. I watch as she sets her things down near the stairs and pulls two Styrofoam boxes from her bag. Taking the seat next to me, she hands me one container. "Here. I brought you home some fries and a dessert. Where's Jasper?"

"In his room."

"Jasper!" Rose yells, her regaining strength as she clears her throat. "Get out here!"

Jasper's grumbling can be heard from his room, making Rose and me snicker. When she hollers again, he comes storming out, looking less than pleased.

"What?" His voice is irritable and grouchy, which makes us laugh. Even though he's trying to remain annoyed, I can see the humor in his face. "Yeah, it's very amusing, shitheads. What do you want?"

Once she's calm, Rose points to the other box that on the table. "I brought you some fries and a piece of coconut pie."

His eyes widen, and he licks his lips, immediately opening and devouring the contents.

"You're welcome," Rose says after he shoots her big smile.

"Where did you go?" I inquire, munching on my fries.

She shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I went for a drive. I ended up at the beach, actually."

"Did Emmett go with you? He left after you did."

"He did," she hedges carefully. "We spoke about … what he did. With the videos; how he got them to the police." She pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "He told me he found the videos on one of Royce's computers; apparently, he went to his house. He found the encrypted files and sent them to the police."

Jasper and I exchange wide-eyed glances.

"How did he even get in?" Jasper questions, astonished.

Rose shrugs a single shoulder, looking down at her fingers as she picks at the skin around her nails. Her next words are hesitant and slow. "No idea. He probably pretended to be a friend of his, and one of the maids let him in."

"Wow," Jasper breathes.

I nod in agreement; simply amazed that Emmett had risked himself like that to help Rose and all of the other girls Royce hurt.

"After we had a long, in-depth discussion, I left him and met up with Vera. I got some things off my chest."

Jasper and I exchange a look when we both see the small frown on her face.

"Did it help?"

Rose wrinkles her nose, and sighs heavily, her nails making a rough scratching sounds as she rakes them up and down her legs. "Kind of. I told her what happened with Royce. I'm not completely okay, but I will be. I will be," she repeats the last three words to herself like a mantra, nodding with each completion of the sentence. "Everything will be okay. It will."

Silence settles around us, and we drop all heavy discussion, eating our treats while watching mindless television until it's late and we can no longer keep our eyes open.

That night, instead of crying, the bloody, faceless people that have haunted me, vanish into nothingness. In their place, I dream of vivid swirls of gold and copper and kisses that leave me breathless. In the background of my dream is a haunting melody that brings me peace and breaks my heart all at once.

* * *

**There's a little bit of progress ... yay! **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello and Happy Holidays! Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews and favorites this story. Your support means so much!**

**Fran, Mr G and Me and Monica03, thank you so much for your help with this story, your thoughts on the chapters and all of your input. You're all amazing! (And any mistakes you see are my own!)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

"Don't forget, those projects are due tomorrow!" the teacher calls out as everyone hurries out of the class. I roll my eyes at the worried squeaks from my classmates; they act like we haven't had all the time in the world to complete this thing.

Frankly, I'm glad this project is almost done. It means I'll no longer have to interact with Edward.

Speak of the devil, he passes by my seat, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Tapping my fingers on the desk, I wait for him to say something as he falters, his eyes locked in on my lips.

It doesn't take a genius to know what he's thinking about … and unfortunately, I find myself in the same situation.

As much as I want to forget it ever happened, my subconscious isn't as keen on the idea as I am. Last night, my dreams were filled with all kinds of kisses; rough bruising kisses and sweet, gentle kisses … all of them starring Edward.

I even woke up this morning, and my first thought was how swollen and tender my lips felt … and how much I _liked _it. What was more disturbing was the feeling of happiness I had felt at the thought of Edward and me kissing.

It's downright frustrating; there's no way we're compatible. Well, technically speaking, we are, but other than pissing each other off and giving in to our hormones, we'll never work.

Immediately, I stop that line of thinking. Why am I thinking about anything other than being classmates with Edward?

Nothing like that will ever happen between us, I'm sure of it.

The sound of loud giggles jolts me out of my thoughts, and I jump slightly, noticing Edward do the same. He bows his head, gently shaking it as his gaze drops down to the table.

"Here's the project and the presentation. Take a look at it and let me know if it looks okay."

He slides a DVD across the desk then swiftly pulls his hand back, shoving it in his pocket. Inside, my stomach twists, and a short, bitter laugh escapes me. Rolling my eyes, I toss the items in my binder.

"A little late to be worried about cooties, isn't it?" I remark with a raised eyebrow. "You've already had your tongue in my mouth."

I collect my things and breeze out of the classroom, into the crowded hall. Suddenly, he's beside me, his hand cupping my elbow and turning me around to face him.

That familiar pleasurable shiver races through me, as his cool skin comes in contact with my warm flesh, igniting my blood and sending my heart into overdrive.

Stupid hormones.

Yanking my arm away, I take a step back, wanting as much space between us as possible. His eyebrows raise in surprise as he raises his hands in the air, feigning surrender. For what, I have no clue. It's not as if he's genuinely scared of me, the jerk.

"What's your problem?"

"The same one you have," I mutter pointedly through tight lips.

Annoyance flashes across his face and he sighs heavily, about to respond, but the growing crowd of curious students around us draws his attention away from me. They form a loose circle around us, their mouths open mid-gasp, their eyes wide and bouncing between us like they're watching tennis. Not feeling up to an audience, with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, I turn my attention to them.

"Is there a problem?"

Most of the students in the small group shake their heads, but one brave soul swallows past his fear and speaks up.

"Are you two going to kill each other?" He looks like he's going to foam at the mouth at the prospect and it amazes me how bored they must be to want two people they don't know to fight.

"You mean you can see him too?" I question in astonishment as I point to Edward. A look of surprise flashes across his face momentarily before falling into one of amusement.

Confused, the student nods, looking between the two of us warily.

"Oh, thank goodness!" I exclaim, pumping my hands in the air before sighing with relief. "I thought I was seeing things again."

"Do you … see things a lot?" he fearfully asks.

"I'll tell you what I see. I see a bunch of people who should mind their own business," Edward snaps with a growl. "Get lost."

They all scatter like roaches, the sound of their rushed footsteps filling the nearly empty hall.

I would never admit this, but I'm a little impressed with the way they all fled. It took me months of talking to myself and beating up Royce to get that effect on my peers.

He mumbles something under his breath, but I don't ask for clarification. I don't see it being worth my time.

"I wanted to talk to you. To explain about yesterday."

"Oh? And what do you have to say about yesterday?"

For the longest moment, he's silent, his eyes boring into mine. He leans against the row of lockers next to us, one hand knocking lightly against the metal. My fingernails tap against the plastic surface of my binder, waiting for his response, but nothing comes.

He continues to stare, his hand moving closer to me as he thinks. When his hand is close enough, he reaches out and gently combs through my hair hanging over my shoulder, his fingers delicately playing with the strands.

A pleasurable thrill shoots through me at the trivial action, why I don't know.

Unconsciously, I find myself leaning toward him, wanting to feel more contact, and he doesn't disappoint. With each pass, his fingertips gently brush against my shoulder.

I close my eyes and sigh lightly, ignoring the nagging feeling warring within me. Something is telling me I shouldn't be this close, but at the moment, I can't think of a single reason why.

A slamming of a locker down the hall breaks me out of my trance, and the reasons why I shouldn't, come flooding back. Shaking my head, I take a step back as I silently curse myself for being so easily swayed.

"If you're not going to say something, I need to get going. I actually have to focus on school."

"Wait," he says, stepping in front of me. He holds a hand out and looks as if he's going to reach for me, but he drops it back down at his side limply. "Look, about yesterday, in my car—"he breaks off in a heavy sigh, shoving a hand in his hair and pulling at the roots. "That kiss was … it shouldn't have happened."

A wave of heat rises from my chest to my hairline, and I clear my throat, forcing a laugh through my embarrassment.

I had known nothing would ever come of yesterday, that it was just a one-time thing, so why do I feel this way? I mean, this is Edward Cullen for heaven sakes. He and I will never get along, despite what's happened in the past. It's obvious those times were simply a fluke, and we'll never be anything other than classmates and our sibling's weird friend.

Sure, there might be attraction there, but we're both hormone-fueled teenagers with inferno level tempers that sometimes ignite too hot. There's bound to be an explosion every so often, especially when we're left alone in confined spaces.

The easiest solution to that is to just not be alone with him anymore. Problem solved.

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, though. You don't have to worry about it happening again."

"No, Bella, I—"

Without another word, I step around him, heading to my locker for my next class. I quickly make the exchange for the items I need, hoping I'm not late, all the while cursing Edward's existence

_Why did he have to move here? Why does he affect me like this? Jerk! _

"Hey," I hear a deep voice to my right. Looking over, I see Mike Newton stalking up to me, his eyes narrowed and lips pursed as if he's sucking on a lemon.

Which is, quite frankly, needed after dating Lauren. He needs all the disinfectant he can get.

"What?"

"You're going to do two things, you hear me? You're gonna stop whatever mojo you're doing. She thinks you've cursed her. You're going to say there's no such thing as curses and that you were just messing around."

Unable to help myself, I snort. "Really? She's still paranoid, huh?"

He nods once. "It's driving me crazy," he mutters. "She thinks every little bad thing that happens is from you."

I cackle, pretty pleased with myself for driving her so crazy. It's what she deserves.

"It's not funny," he fumes. "Fix it. And then, you're gonna talk to the principal and get Lauren back in school."

"Ha! Yeah, sure, Fido." I roll my eyes, still chuckling.

He frowns, taking a deep a breath. I watch in amusement as he stands taller, his chest puffed like an aggressive bird.

"You're going to do it, _or else._"

Theatrically, I widen my eyes, placing a hand over my mouth in mock fright. "Oh, I'm terrified. I'll get right on that," I sarcastically reply. "Look, Lauren's expulsion was her own doing. Now, she has to face the consequences. But don't worry; I'm sure she's not alone, pining for you. I'm sure one of her many boy toys is keeping her occupied."

Before I'm done speaking, Mike is rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Lauren wouldn't cheat on me. She loves me."

I laugh and quickly bite my lip to contain the sound. "I feel sad you think that … _genuinely _sad. I saw her with someone in Port Angeles quite recently … and that guy was _not _you. She was all over him like a cheap slut."

Mike's eyebrow furrow together and his mouth drops open slightly as he processes this information. For a moment, I do feel honest sympathy for him, but it's over just as quickly as it comes. In my opinion, he should have known better.

He had seen with her Royce and his friends, rubbing all over them and sending them coy, flirtatious smiles right in front of him. Add in the fact that she had cheated to be with him in the first place; well, as my Gran says, a leopard doesn't change its spots.

"You're lying because you're a vicious, jealous _bitch_," he spits. "And if you don't do as I say, then I'll make your life a living hell. Or better yet, maybe I'll hit you where it hurts; starting with Jessica."

My eyes narrow and I take a step forward, watching with amusement as he backs into the lockers, his head bouncing off the metal.

"Let me tell _you _something, Newton. If you touch, look at, think about, or _breathe _in Jessica's direction, you will deal with _me_. You think you've seen me angry?" I chuckle darkly, shaking my head. "You haven't. Not _truly, utterly, _and _completely _angry; and believe me, you _won't _like me when you do."

His laughter is choked as his eyes dart around, looking for a way out. Beads of perspiration appear on his forehead and upper lip, and he tugs the collar of his soccer jersey, swallowing audibly.

"Who are you? _The Hulk?_"

"No. _I'm much worse_. Stay away from her; this is your only warning, and it's final. Don't test me, asshole."

For a moment, I stand there, staring at him unblinkingly. When I can no longer take the smell of starched cotton and the BO he's producing, I step back, walking away without a second glance.

I'm almost to the end of the hall when his voice rings out again.

"I saw Rosalie today. I guess everything Lauren said was true, huh? About being Royce's sloppy seconds? Too bad; she was pretty. That makeup, though? Yikes. Not a very good job, in my opinion. Tell her to watch some tutorials; or better yet, Lauren can call her and give her some tips. Maybe then she'll be decent enough to look at. Who knows, maybe I'll even see what the hype is about."

Slowly I turn, my eyes zeroed in on Mike smirking.

"I mean," he continues, "I suppose she could still be useful, right? At least she's broken in now."

Faster than I ever thought I could move, I'm charging down the hall, delighting in the way Mike's face changes from the sneering smirk to pure fear.

Balling my hand into a fist, I raise it, ready to strike, but someone grabs me from behind.

"Easy there, Swan."

Looking up over my shoulder, I see Coach Clapp standing behind me, glaring in Mike's direction. Behind him, I see Edward standing there, glaring at the back of Coach's head.

"What's going on here?" Coach Clapp demands, releasing me once I drop my hand.

Immediately, Mike points in my direction. "She's psycho! She was going to attack me!"

"Huh," the coach muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so. What _I _saw was completely different. I saw you bothering Miss Swan and threatening two students."

Mike gapes, rapidly shaking his head and sputtering a defense, but Coach Clapp is having none of it. He simply points ahead and spins Mike around.

"Don't wanna hear it, Newton. If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut; you're in deep enough as it is and this latest incident just added to the pile. You're going to the principal. Get to class, Swan!" Coach calls over his shoulder.

I watch Mike get escorted to the principal's office and give him a big smile before flipping him off just before he rounds the corner, his head turning to send me one, last, withering glare.

The bell rings, signaling the beginning of a new period, but there's no way I'll be able to concentrate. Not when my anger is still high and simmering just beneath the surface. I have a small amount of satisfaction that Mike will be in heaps of trouble for what he did, thanks to Coach Clapp, but I can't be around other people right now.

Edward, I notice, is still standing silently by, watching me closely.

Not saying a word, I head in the opposite direction of where I'm supposed to be, easily finding an empty classroom and stepping inside. Placing my books, down, I lean over the desk, my hands gripping the sides tightly. I wish I could get away with picking this up and tossing it across the room.

Maybe then I would feel a little better.

The anger I feel toward Mike's callousness for Rose is beyond anything I have ever felt. I don't, for the life of me, understand how he can be so cold and mean. It's obvious to anyone looking at Rose that she's struggling, so what's the point in being so heartless?

Oh, right. I forgot; he's a sheep, following a bitch.

What a bastard.

The sound the door clicking snaps me to attention, and I scramble for an excuse as to why I'm here and not in class. I relax a little as I see Edward standing there, watching me carefully.

I scowl in his direction, not in the mood for anything he's going dish out right now. "What do you want?"

He takes a small step toward me, stopping a few feet away. His hand twitches in my direction, but he refrains himself from touching me. "You okay?"

"Fine, obviously." I wait for him to say something, but after a minute passes, it's obvious he's not going to. I turn and sit on the desk, crossing my arms over my chest. "What did you follow me in here for?"

"I … wanted to check on you."

Warily, I eye him, noting how his eyes are moving from my eyes to my lips constantly. "Why?"

A puzzled look comes across his face as he runs a hand through his hair and leans against the wall. "I don't know."

Unable to help myself, I laugh. "You don't know why you're feeling emotions, or why you're feeling one for _me_?"

He nods, but I'm unsure as to what question he's responding to.

"Which one is it?"

"You're good person," he says instead, his voice soft. "You're a little rough around the edges, sure. We all are. But you're a good person."

"Well, thanks. I think," I reply, puzzled. "_Why_ are you telling me this?"

"You do infuriate me, but not for the reasons you think. Sure, you're stubborn and abrasive at times, but you're … enjoyable to be around. You know, when you're not bitching."

I grin broadly. "Or being a bitch? I think so too. I'm glad you came around to the dark side."

Laughing lightly, he leans against a desk, his eyes trained on the blackboard. "You assumed I regretted the kiss we had and I do, but not in the way you think," he rushes to explain. "I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I should have asked."

"Well, technically, you _did _pause before you kissed me. I had plenty of time to back away."

A skeptical look crosses his face before he nods. "Fair enough." He pauses, and his next words are thoughtful, with a teasing tone laced over a syllable. "If I remember correctly, and I do, _you_ kissed _me_ back."

"Don't get cocky," I tell him, trying to ignore the fluttering in my belly and the heat rising up to my face as I think about just _how _I kissed him back. "It was in retaliation for what _you _started. I couldn't let you get away with kissing me. I had to even the playing field, didn't I?"

"Sure," he says with a laugh. "Is that all it was? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, Mr. Conceited. Trust me, I've had better kisses. The kiss we had was all right. Nothing to think twice about."

I fight like hell to keep my face impassive, hoping he doesn't see through my blatant lie.

"What a coincidence; so have I." His tone is innocent, but I can see the anger brewing in his eyes. "Since it was such a disappointment, I suppose we can just forget about it."

"Yeah, it's already erased from my memory," I tell him, lying through my teeth. I don't want him to know just _how _affected I am by him. I can't let him have that much power.

"Why _did _you kiss me?"

His lips purse as he thinks, a glimmering look of teasing in his eye. "I had to distract you somehow."

"From what? You mean chewing you out … and what makes Alice so … _special_?"

Raising a challenging eyebrow, he gives me a hard stare that says more than words ever could. I'm a little insulted he would think I would say anything about it, but I understand. I would be the same way if I were in his shoes.

"Relax. I don't know anything concrete … _yet._ And even if I did, I wouldn't say anything. Alice is a good person and a great friend. Hurting her is not an option for me. You, on the other hand …"

Instead of being pissed or annoyed, he simply chuckles, shaking his head. He steps away from the desk and toward the door, looking at me over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine once you stop stalking me." I soften my words with a grin and a wink.

"If you need to talk to someone," he begins unsure. I hold my breath, wondering if he's going to offer what I think he is. "Alice can help," he rushes out.

"Of course," I reply, forcing a smile on my face.

A confusing wave of disappointment flares through me as he walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Why the hell do I feel this way?

Edward and I would never work, I know this. We're too different, and we fight too much, so why do I feel so upset at his blasé attitude?

Maybe Royce knocked a few screws loose when he attacked me.

Maybe it's the restless sleep I've been getting.

Or maybe, I'm simply insane.

I just need to take a page out of his book and forget about it before I drive myself crazier than I already am.

8*8*8*8

"Are you okay?" Alice says immediately as she meets me at my locker in the late afternoon.

"Fine. Why?"

"Edward told me he was giving you something for your project. I wanted to make sure he didn't piss you off. He was acting weird about it this morning."

"How can you tell?" I tease, trying to imagine Edward nervous. I want to picture it, but I can't seem to make it work. The two just don't go together. "He didn't piss me off any more than usual," I say, keeping my expression schooled.

She nods, and her eyes light up as she bounces lightly on her toes. "Did you hear? Mike could be expelled too! Apparently, he's been bullying students, and today he threatened someone. There's also a rumor he's been cheating on all of his homework and tests. Supposedly, there's a ton of evidence to back it up, but everything is very hush-hush right now."

Chuckling, I idly wonder if the evidence of cheating came from Tyler; he _did _say Mike and Lauren would pay. I wonder if he had any hand in Mike's 'heap of trouble' Coach Clapp alluded to, not to mention helping along Lauren's expulsion.

"Good. He deserves it, especially for what he said earlier," I mumble, but Alice hears me clearly.

"What happened? What did he say?" she asks, her eyebrows drawing together in concern.

I give her the condensed version, not wanting to get worked up again, and by the time I'm done Alice looks like she's ready to hunt him down.

She hisses something I can't hear, but I catch snippets of what sounds like _orange jumpsuits. _

Quirking an eyebrow, I wonder why on earth she would mention something like that.

Catching my inquisitive look, she winces and smiles sheepishly, turning away. I tap her on the shoulder, ready to put her mind at ease, but suddenly Alice straightens her hunched posture, her face brightening.

Looking up, I see the reason why.

Jasper walks up, giving me the stink eye, sparing Alice a small grin before returning his glare to me.

"What's his problem?" Alice mutters to me, her tone puzzled.

Unable to help myself, I loudly chuckle.

This morning, Jasper had noticed my flushed face and started teasing me about the kinds of dreams I might have had to warrant such a reaction. He was scarily close, and I couldn't let him know that, otherwise, he would never let it die. In order to distract him, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, which is his greatest fear: clowns.

He paled and shut up after that, thankfully.

"You're still upset?"

"It wasn't funny," he hisses. "I'll have nightmares now. You know how much I hate those beasts."

"Oh come on, lighten up. I would never let any clowns get you."

"You suck."

"I love you too."

Finally, he cracks a grin and chuckles. "You're messed up."

"Of course I am."

Down the hall, I catch sight of Rose, her blonde hair flowing behind her as she makes her way toward us. Her makeup has been wiped off, leaving her skin clear and pink. Her hair has lost some of its curl from this morning, but overall, she looks the same as she did when she came into the kitchen, dressed in baggy jeans and her too-big T-shirt.

We all knew it was her defense mechanism; it's similar to what she did after Royce attacked her, sans the makeup.

I don't fully understand it, but I don't have to. I just have to be here when Rose needs me.

As Rose approaches, I immediately notice her puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and blotchy skin that only happens when she's been crying. I start to ask her if she's okay, but she shakes her head, looking over her shoulder as Emmett follows behind her a few steps.

I straighten, watching him as he nods to Jasper and steps toward me, his eyes glued to the floor.

"Bella, can I have a moment, please?"

We step away from the others and stand in awkward silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rose watching us closely, looking ready to step in if she needs to.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Emmett begins, his tone contrite. "You weren't to blame for Royce's actions, I know that. I just … acted like a jackass, basically. I know, _I'm sorry, _isn't sufficient enough for what I said and how I made you feel. I just hope you can forgive me one day … and it doesn't have to be soon. Make me sweat it out a little. I deserve it."

"Is this because of—"I start to ask, looking toward Rose.

Emmett, however, is quick to refute. "No!" He practically shouts, shaking his head rapidly. "You're owed this apology. You didn't anything wrong; I swear it."

Lightly, I chuckle. "Good to know ... and I understand your reaction. It was a stressful situation, and you needed an outlet for your anger. I don't appreciate being your punching bag, but I understand." I give him a meaningful look while nodding over to Rose. "She was hurt; trust me, you didn't say anything I wasn't thinking."

He frowns deeply, shaking his head. "It's no excuse. I _was _worried, but it wasn't your fault, and I shouldn't have implied it was. I'm a jerk. I'm truly sorry; I'm going to work on thinking before I speak from now on."

Not wanting to argue, I nod. "It's in the past. Let's leave it there."

Emmett gives a small smile and waves toward Jasper as he heads out, walking past Rose with a quick but meaningful glance. Rose ducks her head, hiding behind her hair and looking up as I step toward her.

"What was that about?"

She jerks a shoulder upward, lightly shaking her head. "It's nothing." She mumbles something too low for me to hear and steps away. "I'm going out to the car."

Without waiting for our reply, she's gone, her retreat quick. Jasper and I exchange confused looks but don't say anything more. I know Rose is going to be feeling off for a while and I know Jasper and I will keep an eye on her, just in case she needs us.

Outside, Alice waves excitedly at Angela. "Angela! Over here!"

As soon as Angela is in front of us, Alice hands her an envelope. "Here. For Jess' fundraiser."

"Wow! You sure raised that quickly!"

"I had some savings, and my parents chipped in, too; they were happy to help."

"Thank you so much, Alice." Angela smiles sweetly.

Alice responds in kind. "Anything for Jess."

Angela places the envelope in her backpack, promising to give it to her father as soon as she gets home. While they discuss the fundraiser, my phone buzzes inside my bag. When I retrieve it, Arthur's name flashes across the screen.

_**Hey, Bella, I know you're probably busy with school right now, but I was wondering if you'd like to meet up for coffee in Port Angeles sometime? Strictly platonic, of course … or something. Whatever you want. If not, that's okay. I won't be offended or anything.**_

Smiling at his awkward text, I respond back quickly, telling him I'll meet up with him this afternoon if he's up for it. I'm heading to Port Angeles today anyway.

"Who is that?" Alice tries to sneak a peek at my phone, but I put it back in my pocket before she can read anything.

"Just a friend."

"Is it a guy? Ooh-La-la!"

At that moment, Edward walks by, his shoulders stiff and his jaw taut. He looks as if he could breathe fire right now and honestly, it seems if he wants to, especially as his head turns slightly in my direction, his eyes a dark onyx that makes me shudder slightly.

Pushing away the feeling, I meet his harsh look with one of my own, daring him to say something and wondering why the hell he's upset now.

From the way his behavior changes from one extreme to another, I have a good mind to say something to his father, but chances are, he already knows.

Or at least I hope he does.

"What's his problem?" Angela mutters, her elbow lightly touching my forearm.

"It could be anything," I snort.

Angela looks between us, her eyes shining with amusement and taking on a knowing glint. Silently, she mouths an "oh," in an exaggerated manner, nodding slowly and sucking in her bottom lip to control the chuckling bubbling from her chest.

Before I can ask what she finds so amusing, Alice pulls my attention to her pitifully upset face.

"Bella, you're not telling me anything!"

"Because I already told you everything you need to know. I received a text from a _friend._ Anything other than that is _my _business. No offense."

She pouts, clearly not satisfied with my answer.

"Your face will freeze that way," I tell her, poking her protruding lip.

Angela laughs. "That's what my mother told us whenever we used to pout."

"It's probably true. It had to happen to someone, right?"

"Probably," Angela muses. "Well, I have to go. I have a ton of homework to do. See you later, guys!"

We wave goodbye, and Alice turns to me, an air of excitement shining in her eyes. "Hey, let's have a girls' afternoon. You, me and Rosalie. It could be good for her. What do you say?"

"I'm sorry, I can't this afternoon. I'm going to Port Angeles."

Alice starts to argue but is halted by Jasper. "What's in Port Angeles?"

"I need to pick up some things," I reply, walking to the car. I slow my steps as I see Rose isn't alone; she's talking to Emmett, and if the frowns on both of their faces are anything to go by, their conversation isn't going well.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Jasper argues, oblivious to the scene ahead. "Not with the disappearances happening."

"I'll be fine. I _have _to go."

"Why?"

"Reasons."

He shakes his head, displeased with my response. I roll my eyes at him. I know he's concerned about my welfare, but I won't be doing anything stupid today.

Edward's car races up in front of us, and as he comes to a sudden stop, the brakes screech loudly, scaring the hell out of me.

"What is wrong with you?" I shout, my heart hammering away in my throat. "You could have run me over! If I had died, I would have been so pissed. And make no mistake, if you kill me, I _will _haunt you."

"You're insane. I wouldn't have run you over," he says, rolling his eyes. "Alice, let's go."

Defiantly, she stares at him as she snarls, "Get lost."

I blink in surprise at her harsh tone, never having heard her speak so abrasively to him. In the past, she's shown her displeasure for one thing or another, but she's never been this harsh.

"Alice." His voice is an exasperated sigh, and he says nothing more. Leaning toward the passenger side window, he waves her over. With a huff, Alice leans a forearm against the edge of the window, her head sticking inside the car.

Immediately, they begin conversing in a quick murmur, their voices no louder than a buzz.

Jasper gives me an inquisitive look, nodding toward the pair.

"What happened?" he mouths.

Shrugging a shoulder, I make a face because I have no clue as to why they're fighting.

Out of nowhere, Alice jumps up from her slouched position and turns around to face us, a strained smile on her face.

"I can't stay—there's somewhere I need to be. I'll see you later, okay? Don't—" she pauses looking worriedly at Jasper. "Be safe in Port Angeles."

I nod, having a feeling her words are more than the customary goodbye. "Of course."

Blowing out a heavy breath, she briefly closes her eyes, massaging her temples. In the driver's seat, Edward murmurs something, and she nods, her head moving in a jerky movement, making it appear as if it's not attached to her neck.

When she opens her eyes, they're filled with worry. Her gaze flits between Jasper and me, lingering on me for longer than I'd like.

Jasper looks between Alice and me, his palms swiping up and down his jeans. Taking one step forward, he stops as Alice smiles sweetly, her hand raised toward him, as if she's going to grasp it, but she drops it at the last moment.

"I'll see you later. Bye, guys."

Rubbing the back of his neck, he gives a small smile and a wave, looking toward me with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.

Edward starts to say something, but snaps his mouth shut, tapping his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel. Shaking his head, the next tap against the steering wheel is hard, his palm smacking against the thin column.

The engine of his car roars and his tires squeal as he tears out of the full parking lot, leaving behind a trail of astonished faces.

"What the hell was that about?"

My stomach tightens, and a wave of uneasiness falls over me. I think whatever it was, it can't be very good. Nervously, I look toward my cousin and shake my head, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat.

"I don't know," I reply. "Let's get going."

Rose glares as we get in the car, saying nothing. She revs the engine and peels out of the parking lot, her knuckles white as she tightly grips the wheel. Jasper turns to look at me, mouthing, _what's wrong with her? _I shake my head, staring worriedly at the back of her head.

Deciding to take the first step, Jasper cautiously asks what happened.

"Nothing," she snaps. "Leave me alone."

"Hey," I say, coming to his defense. "No need to be so pissy. He just asked a question."

"And I just answered it. I want some peace and quiet."

My eyebrows rise high on my forehead as I exchange a look with Jasper. He shrugs and sighs heavily, turning to stare out the window. In the past, Rose has been angry with us but never without a reason. I'm tempted to ask her why she's in such a foul mood all of a sudden, but one look at her pinched face tells me that if I value my life, I'll restrict my words toward her.

At the house, Rose forcefully pulls the keys out of the ignition and stomps inside. My mother comes out of the living room, her eyes wide as she looks from Jasper and me to where Rose just disappeared.

"Rosalie?" my mother questions before Jasper and I can dissuade her.

"I want to be left alone!" she shouts before slamming her door, the action of it rattling the pictures on the wall.

"Rosalie, we do _not _slam doors in this house!" Mom admonishes. She gets no response and sighs heavily, looking to back to the two of us. "What was _that _about? Did something happen at school?"

"She seemed upset by something earlier. I think it was Emmett, but she wouldn't talk about it," I reply. "I don't know what else it could be, unless someone said something to her, which I doubt. I mean, they're staring and whispering, which is the norm lately, but other than that," I lead off, shrugging. "Mike said something to me, but that was taken care of."

Mom and Jasper look at me curiously, and I quickly run through the events. By the time I'm done, they both look pissed.

"He and Lauren should have been swallowed," Mom grumbles.

A burst of surprised laughter leaves me as I look at her in astonishment. I've never heard her say something like that.

"What?" she replies innocently, looking between Jasper and me. "It's the truth."

Again, we laugh, and I'm distracted by Jasper's retelling of his day by my phone vibrating.

Taking a quick peek, I notice it's Arthur, telling me he'll see me soon outside the art gallery.

Quickly, I put my things away and grab my sketchbook, shoving it in my bag. On my way out, I pause by Rose's room, hearing muffled crying coming from within. My hand is immediately on the knob, but it doesn't turn, telling me it's locked.

Knocking tentatively, I place my ear against the cool surface of the wood. "Rose? You okay?"

"Go away." Her tone isn't forceful or angry, it's full of sadness and despair, which makes me want to go in all the more.

Seconds later, Mom's voice drifts up the stairs.

"Bella, come here."

I meet Mom at the bottom of the steps, and she wraps an arm around my shoulders, leading me into the kitchen. "Don't take it personally, baby. Right now, Rosalie is going through a lot. She's adjusting to the new attention, the fact that Royce is in jail and so much more."

"Will she be okay?"

"She'll be fine. Just give her some time."

I nod, feeling uneasy about letting Rose handle this by herself. If she wanted help, I know she'd ask for it, or at least let us help her, but right now, it doesn't feel right leaving her alone.

We're family. We should help each other.

"Do you have homework?"

Thankfully, most of mine is already done thanks to the substitute in one of my classes, and I happily relay this information. I do have to look over the presentation, but that can wait until tonight. It shouldn't take me too long.

Mom nods approvingly, looking at Jasper as he wanders in, heading for the fridge. "Jasper?"

"I have a few assignments," he begrudgingly admits. "But they're easy enough and not due right away."

"Don't forget to do them. School is important."

"I know."

Mom turns to me, smiling. "What are your afternoon plans? Oh! I know, we can do yoga together!"

She laughs at the barely contained grimace on my face.

"Sorry, Ma. I think I'm going to run into Port Angeles for some art stuff."

"I don't know about that, Bella," she says, wringing her hands together worriedly.

I know that she, like Jasper, is concerned about the disappearances around here, but I won't make the same mistakes I've made in the past. I'll remain in crowds, won't talk to strangers and won't go off anywhere by myself in isolated areas, and I tell her as much.

If I weren't doing this for Jessica, I wouldn't even bother to go, but since I'm hoping to sell one of my works for the fundraiser, I don't have a choice.

Mom doesn't look convinced by my conviction but eventually grants permission for me to go.

"I want you to call me when you get to Port Angeles and when you leave. I want you home before dinner. If you can't make it, call your father or me and let us know."

"I will. I'll be safe."

Mom nods and Jasper follows behind, looking unhappy. "I can come with you," he offers, "I still need to pick up a birthday present for you."

"I gave everyone a list a month ago. Waiting till the last minute, huh? I see how important I am to you," I tease.

My birthday is a couple of weeks away, which means the deadline to get something is soon approaching. If he truly hasn't gotten anything yet, I have a feeling he'll scramble for it the weekend before and I'll end up with a crow key chain from the gas station like the year before last.

Although, if I'm perfectly honestly that key chain _was _pretty cool. The battery that makes the small, plastic bird caw has long since died, but it's still pretty cool.

"I got your presents a month in advance, that's how much _I _care. Now, this will be forever imprinted in my memory, and when I'm old enough, I'll do whatever I can to numb this pain, which will effectively ruin my life. Are you happy, Jasper? Are you happy you ruined my life?" I continue to joke with a straight face.

Jasper rolls his eyes and shrugs, his cheeks pink. "I thought I'd have more time."

Mom clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I think you _should _go with her. Just don't wander off into unknown areas, the both of you … and pick up a _nice _present," she says pointedly, knowing his affinity for whatever catches his eye.

He mumbles an agreement through a bite of the apple he's taken, and I grimace in disgust, displeased he's joining me.

"No, Mom, I can go—"

"Why waste the gas?" She cuts in. "Jasper's going with you."

Hearing her tone, I know there's no point in arguing. "Fine. Let's go."

Nearly an hour later, I'm in Port Angeles, standing in front of my destination, my hand slapping against my thigh and my left foot tapping against the concrete. Jasper had disappeared through the crowd five minutes ago, in search of my gift. He had questioned why I was here, but I didn't relent, giving him a BS reason about 'needing inspiration' for an art piece I'm working on.

Luckily, he seemed to buy it.

The Port Angeles Art Gallery stands before me, intimidating with its ground to ceiling glass walls, silver framed glass doors, and colorful artwork varying by artists, from abstracts to landscapes, surrounded by priceless statues that stand guard, confident in their timeless beauty.

Near the door hangs a sign; the reason I'm here in the first place.

It's a flyer, informing people of an upcoming art showcase for young artists, looking much like it did on the website. I've never had the desire to submit anything I've made before; they were simply for me, a way to release the pictures in my head and get out my excess creative energy.

Now, they have a new purpose, and I can only hope things will go according to plan.

Inside, it's cold and quiet, a stark contrast to the heat, humidity, and chaos just beyond the glass. Bright white walls and a dizzying array of paintings are hugged by thick, golden brown frames, highlighted under a single halo of light from the ceiling.

Some of the paintings are truly bizarre, but most, I must admit, are rather good. It makes me wonder if my stuff will ever be good enough for one of these places.

"May I help you?"

Turning, I see a woman in a crisp business suit with her dark hair in a tight bun on the crown of her head. I don't understand how some women can wear their hair like that without experiencing some major headaches. Hell, my head hurts just looking at a hairstyle like that.

"Hi. Are there still open spots for the showcase this weekend?"

She looks at me critically before answering. "Technically, it will be a showcase and an art fair. I believe there are a few spots open. Do you have any of your work with you?"

"I do." Digging through my bag, I open the book and hand it over. The woman studies each page carefully like it's an old artifact and not a sketchbook that cost five dollars. Once she's done, she nods once and hands it back.

"It's very good; the exact type of thing we're looking for."

"Thanks."

She walks to the window, where a small stack of papers sit on a table. "Here are the guidelines for the art fair. Bring your work early Saturday morning, around seven, at the corner of Broadway and Main. The fair lasts from eight to six in the evening. I hope you'll have something ready to go or you're a fast worker because you're cutting it awfully close."

My mind goes through the stacks of paintings I have in my closet and immediately, I know the one I'll be submitting. The blue, purple, and black splatter and random-shape design would be perfect, I think. It's my favorite one, but I can part with it.

I can always make another one.

"I have the perfect one already finished."

"Wonderful," she says, her smile not reaching her eyes. "You are aware that if someone likes your artwork, they will have an option to buy?"

"Yes." In fact, I'm kind of hoping for it.

"Good. Don't forget, early Saturday morning, we'll expect your artwork."

"I will. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Before you leave, what's your name? I have to write it down."

I hesitate, not wanting anyone to know about this. I'm just hoping I can go there, sell my painting, leave and deliver my earnings to Angela's father before anyone finds out. "Will this list be public?"

She shakes her head. "No. We don't list the artists; we just advertise the fair."

"Okay, that's good to know."

"Your name?" the woman questions again, her pen poised to write.

"Bella Swan."

She scribbles it down quickly and holds her hand out to me. I put my hand in hers and shake it lightly.

"I'm Megan Masters. I'm looking forward to seeing your work, Miss Swan. Have a good day."

I rush out of the gallery, feeling oddly excited. I never thought in a million years I'd be so willing to part with something I made, but I'm actually looking forward to doing this.

My only hope is that someone actually purchases it, so I can give the money to Angela's fundraiser for Jessica.

Looking around and checking the time, I note there's no sign of Arthur anywhere. Thinking he got caught up with something, I send him a text, and after ten minutes and still no sign or message from him, I try calling, only to have it ring seven times before going to voicemail. I deduce he must have changed his mind or something came up.

"You."

Snapping my head up, I see Lauren standing in front of me, glaring.

Heavily, I roll my eyes. "What do you want?"

"You got me kicked out of school!" she fumes, her face turning an odd shade of purple.

"As much as I'd like to take credit for that, I can't. You did that all on your own."

"I've had nothing but bad luck since I punched Jessica! You did something to me, I know it!"

Unable to help myself, I smirk. To be honest, I haven't done a single thing. I simply _let _her believe I did. Everything else came from her own imagination. "Did I now?"

"You did! You're some kind of witch, I swear! Take off your curse or whatever. Now!"

I laugh for a solid thirty seconds before controlling myself. "Be careful, Lauren. Haven't you learned by now _not _to threaten me?"

Her eyes widen, and her face pales before flooding with color. "I'll find a way to stop whatever you're doing, and when I do, you and that waste of air, Jessica— "

Without letting her finish her thought, I step forward. "Finish it. I dare you."

"I don't know why you care so much!" she snarls. "She deserves it! Just like Rosalie … by the way, how is she doing?"

"You're pathetic, you know that? Do you need to tear people down to make yourself feel better? Absolutely pathetic."

"You're the pathetic one! Now that your _boyfriend_ has someone pining after him, capturing his attention, you have to make my life miserable?"

I roll my eyes. "For crying out loud, Jasper is my _cousin,_" I say, tired of playing her games. "And secondly, I _wish _I could take credit for your miserable life, but that's all _your _doing."

"You're a lying sack of—"

"Lauren Anne Mallory," a deep voice snaps. She jumps, her face paling.

"Dad, I wasn't doing anything!"

"Enough! What are you even doing here? You were supposed to be in the car, on your way to Seattle!"

"Arthur was supposed to—"

"Just shut your mouth, young lady. I've had enough of your lies and excuses." It's then Mr. Mallory sees me. "Oh, Bella. Hello. I hope Lauren wasn't causing you any trouble."

"She was blaming me for getting her kicked out of school and trying to goad me about Rosalie."

Her father huffs and mumbles something under his breath, casting an apologetic look my way. He knows all about the history between Rose and Lauren, and it's obvious he feels terrible about it. I don't know why; he can't help that his daughter is evil.

"We must be going," he finally says. "Lauren's due somewhere important very soon."

"I'm not going!" she screams. "I did nothing wrong!"

Her father's face turns an odd shade of puce, and he grabs her arm. "It's your own fault, young lady! I gave you too many chances, and you screwed them up. Now, you're going to that detention center in Seattle! Maybe that'll be good for you! Now, I'm calling your cousin, and we're going!"

"Mr. Mallory?" I say before he can get too far. "Arthur was supposed to meet me in front of the art gallery earlier, but he never showed."

He nods, thanking me. "He was probably called away by my sister. Have a good night, Bella."

Mr. Mallory drags a screaming Lauren away, and I stand and watch, trying to process everything that's happened.

Mr. Mallory mentioned a detention center … could that be where the 'orange jumpsuit' comment from Alice came from?

Scraping my teeth against my bottom lip, I release a low whistle. The coincidences are getting harder and harder to ignore.

"Hello." I hear from behind me.

The owner of the voice has a thick French accent and instinctively, I turn when I hear it.

Instantly, I step back and narrow my eyes, feeling my heart beat a little faster and legs start to shake as I take in his bright, deep burgundy eyes staring at me appraisingly. He looks familiar, but I can't place where I've seen him.

"I am Laurent."

"Good for you. What do you want?"

He shakes his head, his deep, throaty laughter echoing off the brick. He looks down as he takes a small step forward, eying me through his thick lashes. I take a step back in response, wanting to put as much distance between us as I can.

"I'm afraid you will not like my answer," he says, chuckling once more, his lips curling over his pearly white teeth. The sight sends a shiver vibrating down my spine, and I swallow audibly, watching as his grin grows. "Why are you out here all alone? Are you lost? Abandoned?" His tongue clicks against the roof his mouth as he wags a finger before tapping against his lip. "No, that's not right. You've not been abandoned or misplaced. You're simply … in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Completely defenseless. What happened?"

Again, he steps toward me, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his head tilts to the side, still grinning menacingly. My heart pounds away in my chest now, so loud I know he can hear it clear as a bell.

Despite feeling an overwhelming sense of doom, I swallow past my apprehension and square my shoulders. "None of your damn business, that's what."

"You have a fiery spirit. I like that." With each word he speaks, he takes a step toward me, forcing me to counteract with a backward step. "Maybe," he muses, watching me closely. "Maybe, you will be useful to me."

"It's great to know I can attract attention from people like yourself."

When he steps forward again, it's then I notice he's trying to back me into the alley beside the gallery and I'll be damned if I'll let that happen.

Instead of stepping backward, I take one toward him. Surprised, he jolts, his body straightening out of its slight crouch as he stares at me with glittering, wide ruby eyes.

Continuing forward, I try to breathe deeply, so my heart doesn't explode from my chest. Once I'm near the mouth of the alley, I breathe a sigh of relief as the sounds of people and traffic become louder.

_Laurent _stares at me in shock, not blinking or moving, his mouth slightly agape.

"You …"

"Well, what do we have here?" a new voice exclaims, breaking into whatever he was going to say. He comes up behind Laurent and slams a hand down on his shoulder, grinning at me.

Oh, shit. I'm definitely outnumbered here.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**I'm sorry updating isn't on a schedule yet. Things in RL are still hectic, but I'm hoping they'll calm down soon! (And I'll try to not keep you waiting very long for updates.)**

**Happy Holidays! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing, as well as TLS for recommending this story!**

**Huge thanks to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for being completely awesome. **

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

The guy standing behind Laurent is dirty and disheveled, his clothes torn at random places, with patches of pale skin peeking through. Dirt is caked and smeared onto his pants, and his light brown shirt looks as if it were green at one time. His shoulder-length blond hair is tied back with a thin, black leather strap and tangled with twigs, leaves and other debris,

I shouldn't stare; I _should _be running as fast as I can, getting somewhere safe and heavily populated. Strangely, something about this guy stops me. His features look so _familiar. _I don't know what it is or who he looks like, but I _know _he looks like someone I know.

The newcomer smiles, his hand flexing on Laurent's shoulder, making him wince. I almost grin at the sight but refrain. I'm unsure about this new guy, wondering how he knows this creep.

Whatever it is, I'm sure it's nothing good, especially if they're friends.

The stranger glances at me from head to toe before turning to Laurent.

"You're a squirrely one, Laurent." The dark and displeased look on his face is a stark contrast to his light tone. "I thought we were past this."

Laurent glares at him over his shoulder and attempts to jerk away, but the stranger shakes his head, planting his other hand on Laurent's other shoulder with a firm slap. A low groan eases its way from Laurent's chest, making the guy smirk and chuckle deeply.

The sound is dark and foreboding, and the situation is tense, thickening the air to an unbearable level. The fear that was once slithering its way up my spine is no longer there, though. I don't know whether it's my stupidity making me feel brave, or it's the fact that I'm feeling confident, being just a jump away from large groups of people.

Whatever it is, I need to keep my cool and get out of here.

Now.

"Don't be in such a hurry," he scolds. "We should … catch up."

"I have nothing to say to you," Laurent spits, attempting once more to jerk away in vain.

I'm confused as all hell; obviously, this person isn't friends with _Laurent_, if his reaction is anything to go by. But then, _how _do they know each other and why is he acting like they're best friends?

I'm missing a big piece of this puzzle, but for right now, I'm perfectly fine with that.

The guy shakes his head and sighs heavily. "Now, now. Let's not get bent out of shape. This is supposed to be fun!"

While the two converse, I slowly back away, eying the street with every step I take away from the quarreling pair. Once I'm in the clear, I take my chance and run.

The area behind me erupts into a symphony of noise; animalist growls, high-pitched screeching, and taunting laughter meet my ears. I'm tempted to turn and see what's happening, but I ignore it.

If my curiosity says I should, then I should do the opposite.

Jumping in my truck, I quickly check my phone with shaky hands, seeing Jasper had sent a text, asking if we could get dinner instead of going home.

Instead of replying, I call him, hoping my voice doesn't shake as violently as my hands.

"Hey."

I squeeze my eyes shut and bang my head against the headrest, covering the mouthpiece so I can clear my throat.

"Hey," Jasper replies easily. "Not to brag, but I found _the _perfect gift for your birthday. I think from now on I'll have you call me the gift God."

Forcing a laugh, I clear my throat again. "You sure seem confident. I might not even like it."

"Pssh. You'll _love _it. So? Dinner in PA? I'm craving Chinese."

"Sure. Did you ask Mom and Dad?"

"Did," he confirms. "It's okay as long as we come back before dark."

"Okay. The place down the street?"

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p.' "I'm already here. Hurry up, will you?"

Rolling my eyes, I hang up and book it down the street, immediately spotting Jasper standing outside of the Chinese restaurant, a shiny, purple, birthday bag dangling from his wrist. He waves, and I give him a half-hearted wave back, focusing on parking.

I take a moment, cursing my still-shaking hands while my heart thunders away in my ears. I can't take long in here, because Jasper is the most impatient person when it comes to food, so I take a couple of deep breaths and exit the truck.

Jasper immediately rushes for me, his hands on my shoulders, holding me tightly. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Pushing him off, I take a step back and force a neutral expression. "What are you talking about? I'm fine. All of your talk on food has made me hungry. Come on, we need to eat fast if we want to be back before dark."

His protests follow behind me as I enter the restaurant, requesting a table for two from the cheerful hostess in the most beautiful, blue and gold dress I've ever seen.

Jasper's tense shoulders relax as we sit inside, perusing the menu. I feel the heat of his stare on my face but make no acknowledgment. When the cheerful waitress comes to take our order, I rattle off my food choices and drum my fingers against the rough tablecloth.

"So, what'd you get me for my birthday?" I make a show of leaning down to look at the bag by his feet, but he makes no move to pull it out of my reach. He continues to stare, his gaze penetrating.

"You were scared," he tells me, his tone low and matter of fact. "When you came up to the restaurant, you were scared; you were really pale and shaking."

I wave away his words with a light snort. "I'm always pale. I can't tan."

"Bella."

"It's either I stay pale, or I look like a lobster," I continue. "I'd rather be pale."

"Bella, what happened? I'm kind of freaking out here."

Sighing, I rub my forehead, wondering if I can just brush this off and change the subject, but one look at his face tells me otherwise. Quickly, I go through the events with Laurent, and Jasper listens with an intense, studious quiet. Worry and fear transition on his face throughout my story before repeating, with fear winning out by the time I'm done.

"Do you think this is the guy responsible for all the missing people?" He whispers, leaning forward, his eyes scanning over the restaurant before landing back on me.

I shrug and swallow thickly, never thinking of that possibility. My mind flashes back to the hospital, where Bree's parents had been sobbing at the loss of their daughter. I blink back tears and the anger swimming through my veins at the thought of such a young girl, with a full life ahead of her, now dead.

"I don't know. It's possible, I suppose."

"And this other guy? Do you think he's helping him?"

"I don't know, Jasper. I just know that Laurent guy was creepy as hell. The other guy … there was something familiar about him, though. I don't know what it was."

He hums distractedly, his eyes looking over the space around us, the silverware slightly rattling as a chaotic thumping comes from underneath the table.

Peering down, I see Jasper's foot shaking up and down. Lightly, I put my foot on his, and he looks up, startled.

"Stop."

"I think we should head back home." I start to shake my head, but Jasper continues. "No, we need to tell Uncle Charlie; what happened could be nothing, or you could have run into the person responsible for the kidnappings."

Saying nothing more, Jasper rises, cell phone in hand and heads to the bar, where our waitress is gathering drinks for another table. He converses with her quickly, and she nods, disappearing around the corner.

"I got our food to go. It should be ready—"

A sudden commotion toward the entrance has our attention turning toward the door, where we see Edward flying in, looking wildly around before landing on me. His shoulders drop slightly, and he turns behind him, speaking to someone.

I don't have to wait long to see who he's talking to. Emmett and Alice step up beside him, their faces masks of seriousness and their bodies stiff with tension.

Jasper eyes them warily, his own shoulders tight and his body moving with rigid, jerky-like movements. He leans toward me but is called away by the waitress, holding a white plastic sack.

Muttering a curse, Jasper places a hand on my arm. "I'll be right back."

"Hey. What's up?" I greet, walking toward them slowly, leaving Jasper to collect our food.

"We saw your truck outside and thought we'd come say hi," Alice quickly says, her brother nodding.

"Oh. We're just on our way out. Gotta get home before dark."

Alice and Emmett nod, their solemn expressions morphing into one of those tense grins and statue stillness. Edward is the only one who remains serious, his eyes penetrating mine and watching every movement with hawk-like precision.

I raise an eyebrow in silent question, but he doesn't change his expression, nor does he say anything. He simply stares. I try to give equal attention to his siblings, but my attention keeps getting pulled back to Edward.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Just looking around," Emmett answers.

Nodding, I turn when I hear Jasper's rapid footsteps approaching. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward's arm raise slightly upward toward me. As I look back, however, both arms are at his sides, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Hey, guys," Jasper murmurs, handing me the white plastic sack.

I take it eagerly, my stomach grumbling from the delicious aroma wafting from cartons within.

Alice smiles gently, her eyes lighting up. "Hi, Jasper. Nice to see you again."

He huffs a short laugh, his cheeks turning pink as he nods once, his eyes darting from her to the floor for several circuits before clearing his throat.

"Yeah, you … uh, you too. I'm sorry we can't stay to chat," Jasper continues, his voice stronger now that he's looking down at his phone. "We have to get back."

"Understandable," Alice replies with a sweet smile. "We'll walk out with you."

Jasper's head cocks to the side as he stares at the trio with scrutinizing eyes. "You're not going to eat?"

Alice's nose scrunches up as she shakes her head, the wisps of hair framing her face bouncing lightly. "No. We already ate. Like we told Bella, we saw your truck and wanted to say hi."

He hums, still eying them skeptically but nods and heads for the door as his phone buzzes once more. I follow him to the truck and roll my eyes as he stashes the bag under the seat.

"No peeking."

Edward and Emmett pause near the entrance of the restaurant, speaking quietly as Alice comes to stand near me, biting her lip as she tries not to laugh when I stick my tongue out at Jasper.

Her humor fades in the blink of an eye as she looks to me, confusion, and a touch of sadness etched on her face.

"Is it your birthday?"

"In a couple of weeks. September thirteenth."

"Why didn't you tell me? You're not one of those people that hate birthdays are you?"

"Hell no! I love my birthday. But we haven't known each other that long; I don't even know _your _birthday."

She doesn't look pleased, but nods anyway, her eyes sparkling at she stares thoughtfully. I watch her in amusement, wishing I could see inside her head for just a moment.

Amusement quickly fades, however, as her face goes blank and her eyes go milky before she squeezes them shut. Suddenly, she gasps, and her body seems to vibrate as she staggers backward, her hands flailing behind her.

Edward and Emmett hurry over as the former leans down to grasp her shoulders, whispering to her. She nods at what he says and turns away into Emmett's side, who ushers her away.

"She's not feeling well," he says over his shoulder. "Migraines. We'll see you later."

I nod and make a sympathetic sound, looking at Edward, hoping he can give me some kind of answer. He doesn't; instead, he smiles tightly and leans toward me. I blink rapidly, trying not to get caught up in his sparkling eyes.

The bastard.

"Be safe getting home."

"Of course."

He nods once, his hand cupping my elbow as I hop in the truck, ignoring Jasper's inquisitive and curious glances. When we pull out, I spot the trio walking quickly behind a building across the street. When we pass in front, I note it's the same apartment building Edward had come out of when I bumped into him the second time.

I wonder who lives there that they know, considering Edward seems to have a set of keys to the front lobby. Whoever it is must be close to them if he has a spare set of keys.

"Did you notice anything weird at the restaurant?"

His words snap me out of my thoughts. "Huh?"

"Something weird? At the restaurant? Did you notice anything?"

Groaning, I rummage through the bag, resisting the urge to curse him out. "Ah, man. Did you not check the food? Did you replace my order with something weird? If I puke, I'm aiming for _you._ _Exorcist _style."

I expect him to laugh or tease me, but he's silent, his eyes narrowed and trained unblinkingly on the road. His left arm is resting against the window, one lone finger tapping his pursed lips. "Hm?" Quickly he looks over and shakes his head. "No, nothing like that. Did you … What's up with Alice?"

Stiffening, I gaze at him from the corner of my eye. If he suspects the same thing I do, he won't back off until he has answers. While I'm almost one hundred percent positive, Alice is psychic, based on what I've seen and the strange coincidences with what she's said, I don't have complete certainty.

Really, it's not my place to discuss it especially since she hasn't confided in me yet.

Until then, her secret will remain just that. _Her _secret.

"What do you mean?" I ask, keeping my voice steady. "She seemed fine, apart from her headache."

"I think she has more than just headaches. I've seen her space out _twice _now, and I could swear I've seen her eyes _change._"

"Change how?"

"The color," he replies. "I think they went milky."

Waving dismissively, I scoff. Even though I've seen the same thing and I'm intensely curious about it, I'll keep my questions and theories to myself for now.

"It's probably your eyes playing tricks on you. Or the lighting or something."

He sighs unconvinced. "It's not just that, though. Like tonight, for example. This truck could belong to anyone. How did Alice and her brothers know we were there? Sometimes, I think she knows— "he trails off, shaking his head with a heavy breath before laughing humorlessly. "Maybe she's psychic."

My eyes widen, and my mouth pops open ever so lightly, but luckily, I'm given a moment to collect myself while he watches the road.

"That'd be something," I say with a laugh.

"Yeah," he murmurs, lost in thought. "It's just … she seems strange. All of the Cullens do."

I snort. "Nice way to think of your friends."

"It's not that," he tells me, shooting me an unamused look. "I don't get bad vibes from them, they're just … strange."

"Jasper, everyone is strange outside of your own perspective. Every person you come across is different from _your_ normal_. _If they're not hurting themselves or anyone else, it's none of our business," I conclude, hoping this will be the end of the conversation, but I should know better.

"That's true. There's just too much weird with the Cullens, though. Their behavior, Alice's spacing out. They're … different."

"Different how?" I curiously inquire, wondering where his thoughts are going.

Whatever he's thinking, he keeps to himself, merely shaking his head and giving me a tense smile. "They're not like— nothing. Never mind."

Closely, I watch him for the rest of the drive. Every now and then his eyes will flicker to something unseen off to the side of the road or toward me. When he makes eye contact with me, he quickly looks away, muttering under his breath.

Jasper nods or shakes his head every so often, his fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel, before he shakes his head harder, scrubbing a hand over his face with a deep sigh. This cycle repeats until we pull into the driveway.

Shutting off the engine, he sits back, determination clearly painted on his features. After a moment, he turns to me, the fierce and resolute expression morphing into one of concern.

"You ready to do this?"

I swallow past the nerves slithering up from my stomach and manage a nod. I'm not apprehensive about sharing my story, I'm more nervous about Dad going out there, trying to track this guy down by himself.

Realistically, I know he wouldn't do that. He's smart; he's a cop, but he's also a father. After having witnessed his rage after Royce attacked Rose, I know it'll most likely be the same situation this time around.

Hopefully, Mom and I can keep him calm where he won't go out and get himself hurt. Again.

Inside, my parents are nestled on the couch, snuggled close together. Dad looks a little stressed, but that's normal, as of late.

They both smile when we enter.

"Hey, you two," Mom greets. "Everything go okay?"

Jasper nudges my arm, giving me a pointed look and glancing at Dad. I nod and push him away, sitting on the coffee table. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, my parents exchange worried looks and sit up straight, muting the television and giving me their undivided attention.

"Something happened in Port Angeles," I start, telling them everything that happened with Laurent.

Halfway through my story, Dad rummages through the side table for a notepad and pen.

"Where were you _exactly_?"

I tell him, watching as he furiously scribbles down everything I say. I notice his hand clench around the pen a couple of times, but mainly, he keeps his cool.

By the time I'm done, forty minutes have passed, and I feel exhausted.

"Is that everything?" Dad questions, looking up from his notes.

"Yep. I left as soon as the other guy showed up."

Dad nods once, sighing heavily and laughing lightly in relief. "Good. I'm proud of you, kid. You did the right thing turning his plan against him. Just try to stay in crowds next time, huh?"

I agree, promising to be more careful.

"Was it the same guy who's been taking people?"

Dad exchanges a weary look with Mom, who now seems pale. "I don't know for sure, but it's possible. I have someone helping me with the cases involving the missing people; I'll talk to them about it, okay? Don't worry."

"Who are you working with? Someone from the FBI or something?" I question, curious.

Dad gives me a stern look, shaking his head. "I'm not discussing this with you, you know that."

My shoulders drop slightly in disappointment. I _do _know that. Dad won't ever discuss his serious cases with us; he says there's no need to spread the horrors of the world to us.

"Jasper? How was your outing? Did you get something appropriate?" Mom inquires, changing the subject.

"It was okay. It wasn't a special trip or anything. Just birthday gift shopping for the pain in the ass over there," Jasper replies teasingly, sitting next to my mother on the couch.

"You say that like I should be offended. I wear that title with pride, thank you very much."

"That's my girl," Dad says with a tense chuckle.

"Did you get something to eat?" Mom questions. "If you're hungry, there are some leftovers in the fridge."

"Nope, we have food. Why are there are leftovers?" I ask with confusion. I told Mom about going to Port Angeles in plenty of time for her to reduce the meal size. I wouldn't have thought she would make enough food if we were all there.

"Rosalie wasn't hungry."

Jasper sighs heavily, looking up at the ceiling where her room is. "What's up with her?"

Mom pats his hand and smiles sympathetically. "I don't know, honey, but just give her some space. It's obvious she needs it."

He sighs again but nods, his head falling onto the back of the couch. It's clear Jasper wants to get to the bottom of Rose's issue, but he'll give her the space she needs, even though all he wants to do is make it better for her.

Hell, I don't blame him. I want the same.

"Sit down, baby. Watch television with us," Mom requests, nodding over to the empty chair.

"Sorry, I can't. I have to look over something for school. It shouldn't take me too long, though."

She nods in understanding, and after a quick bite, I go upstairs, pausing outside Rose's room. I hear the faint sound of music and rustling, and it makes me wonder what she's doing.

The rational side of me knows I should do as Mom said and leave her alone. From past experience, I know sometimes people just have to work things out on their own. However, my gut is telling me to punch that side of me in the face and kick it down the stairs.

Deciding to take the risk, I knock quietly, waiting for her to answer. When she doesn't acknowledge me, I knock once more before I slowly open the door and step inside. She's huddled on the floor at the foot of her bed, slouched over something. Her hair is up in a messy bun, a paintbrush firmly gripped in her hand with splatters of color up and down her arms. It's no wonder, considering how furiously she's moving over the canvas.

"Rose?"

Her entire body stiffens, and she glares at me over her shoulder. "Who in the hell gave you permission to come in my room?"

"Holy hell. Is my head still on my shoulders?" I ask, dramatically feeling around my neck. "I knocked, but you didn't answer."

Her attention goes back to her painting, accompanied by her grumbling.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," is her snippy reply.

"Yeah, cause it seems like it."

She shrugs in response, not taking her attention off of what she's working on.

"I'm worried about you, Rose."

Rose clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, her knuckles going white as she tightly grips the paintbrush. Her face changes from pink to red, slowly rising to her hairline as she huffs in anger and annoyance. I swallow thickly as I watch her, feeling my heartbeat increase inside of my chest to an uncomfortable level.

Rubbing the area there, I take a deep breath and start to back out, mumbling an apology. The difference I feel once I leave her room is amazing. In the hallway, I can feel the oppressive tension that was pushing down on me slowly abate, as if it hadn't followed me out here.

Just before I close the door, I hear her exhale heavily, her voice soft and calmer as she calls me back.

Remaining where I am, I simply push the door open and peer inside.

"I appreciate your concern," she tells me. "I just … need a little time. Everything is a mess up here." Rose taps her temple and rolls her eyes, smiling gently.

I nod. "Understandable. Just know, whenever you're ready, we're all here for you. You're not alone."

"I know. I love you, Bella."

"Love you too, Rose."

Leaving her alone and knowing I can't put this off any longer, I dig out the disk Edward gave me and toss it on my bed. Retrieving my computer, I lie on my stomach as it loads, going through the presentation carefully.

In all honesty, it's terrific.

To me, it's clear which part is my contribution, and which is his, but overall, it blended together flawlessly. His strange attitude aside, Edward is very smart.

Not that I'll tell him that.

Honestly, I don't see anything that needs to be changed, which is good, considering it's due tomorrow. As I reach to close my laptop, the faint silhouette of a person on the screen has me pausing. For a second, I think it's Jasper, hiding the corner, attempting to prank me, but as I stare harder, I make out their features easily.

Edward.

Loudly, I gasp and spin around, falling onto the floor. Words of shock, anger, and reprimand die on my lips as I find nothing and no one behind me.

Marching over to the light switch, I flip it on and inspect every inch of my room. Everywhere I search turns up empty, and even more, nothing is moved or disturbed.

I stand in the middle of my room and scratch my head, feeling confused and slightly unhinged.

"It's official," I mutter to myself. "I've gone bat shit crazy."

And it's all Edward's fault.

My thoughts are irrational, yes, but ever since his behavior has changed somewhat and we shared that kiss, it's been difficult to keep him off my mind.

Stupid hormones.

Deciding a change of scenery is in order, I head downstairs, stopping midway when I hear my parents whispering furiously from the living room.

"I need to find the pattern to this mess," Dad says, his voice weary. "There's a pattern. There has to be."

"You will, but not now," Mom replies. A gentle shuffling motion can be heard as she speaks, confusing me for a moment. When I hear the soft sound of a hand patting fabric, I realize she must be rubbing his shoulder like she often does when he's upset.

"Renee—"

"No," she interrupts, her tone firm. "You've worked on this all day. You've _been _working on it since the first disappearance. Take a break."

When he speaks, his tone is hard, frustration seeping every word. "I can't do that when there are people, when our ba— " the rest of his words are drawn out by the toilet flushing from Jasper's room, the pipes giving a slight groan. I strain to hear the rest of the conversation, only catching the last bit.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just want this over," Dad concludes, his tone soft and contrite.

"I know. But for now, take a rest. There's only so much you can do; and besides, the kids are still up. You don't want them hearing or seeing this."

Dad sighs heavily. "I know, I know. I'm going to study the map tonight. Maybe I can figure something out."

Mom sighs and says nothing, the two of them silent as the television drones on.

I walk down the rest of the steps, nearly bumping into Jasper, who rushes into the room, asking if the show they're watching has started yet.

"About a minute ago," Mom murmurs, her head resting on Dad's shoulder. "You didn't miss much."

Standing in the entryway, I stare at my parents for a long moment. Mom looks worried, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth as her fingers twitch against Dad's arm. She constantly shifts, moving closer to Dad with each movement.

Dad says nothing, his face seemingly more drawn and aged than I remember it being a month ago. I'm sure this case is taking a lot out of him. I can only hope it'll be solved soon.

There are too many strange things happening lately, and quite frankly, it needs to stop.

Soon.

With a huff, I fold myself down into the armchair, my eyes trained on the television, but not comprehending what's happening.

When another commercial comes on, Jasper glances at me but does a double-take as he sees the frustrated expression that's undoubtedly plastered there. "What's wrong, Bella?"

I shake my head and bang it against the soft cushion behind me, my eyes trained on the ceiling. "Nothing. I've just lost my damn marbles."

"I could have told you that a long time ago. It's about time you've finally realized it."

With a sneer, I slyly give him the finger by pretending to scratch my temple, but my mom's disapproving look proves I wasn't as covert as I thought. Shrugging, and smiling sheepishly, I turn to Dad when he speaks.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm just … seeing things that aren't there." I dismissively wave away the thought, ignoring Jasper's muffled chuckles and snorts.

"Oh? Like what?"

"People in my room."

Instead of looking dubious or brushing it off, Dad's eyes narrow and he repeatedly smooths down his mustache with his index finger and thumb as he thinks.

Mom, however, is the exact opposite. Shaking her head, she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth disapprovingly, her face a portrait of concern.

"I don't think you're getting enough sleep, baby," she says, studying my face.

The opposite is true, actually. The past few nights, I've been sleeping quite well … and hard too. My nightmares have disappeared, and I've been dreaming of flying through the air while a soft melody buzzes in my head.

I don't know the name of the song, but I know it's helping to keep the nightmares away and that's all I care about right now.

"Why don't you head upstairs?" Mom suggests. "Get some sleep."

Glancing at the clock, I refrain from whining like a toddler. I don't like going to bed early, even if it's just an hour; nighttime is my favorite part of the day. I love the comfort and serenity it brings.

Plus, there's no better time to watch scary movies.

My Dad is the same way too; we're both night owls, through and through.

I want to argue, but seeing the firm look on her face, I know I'll never win. It's no matter, really. I can just watch a movie on my computer to pass the time.

Upstairs, I quickly work through my nighttime routine and head back into my room, changing into my pajamas. I pause as I open my hamper, seeing my favorite, tie-dyed shirt resting on top.

"What in the hell?" I mumble to myself, slowly picking up the item in question.

This shirt was _not_ here before. Not only has laundry been done multiple times since it's gone missing, but I also know someone would have told me if they had found it.

Bringing the shirt up to my nose, I take a cautious sniff and pull back, confused. It smells like laundry soap, fresh air, leather, and something else I can't place but I know I've definitely smelled it before.

The laundry soap is definitely ours; I recognize the faint 'meadow fresh' scent of _Purex_, the same soap we've been using for years. The fresh air smell is strange, however. It smells as if it had been hanging out to dry, instead of going in the dryer, like usual.

Furthermore, if it were clean, _why _would it be in the hamper?

Taking another sniff, I hold my breath, trying to place the last unrecognizable scent.

Suddenly, it hits me.

I _had _smelled this before. It's definitely Edward's unique scent.

Had I not been so close to him in Port Angeles and locked in a car with him, I don't think I ever would have placed it.

Fisting the shirt in my hand, I smirk, knowing he's now busted.

He might have been able to talk his way out of being in my house before, but there's no way he can do that now. I don't think it's a coincidence that I saw him earlier tonight _and _my missing shirt shows up out of nowhere.

_Yeah, he's so busted. _

8*8*8*8*8*8

"What did my brother do now?"

Alice stands beside me, worry, and a touch of amusement on her face. I had completely missed her walking up to me, but then again, I wasn't looking for her.

I did see her and Emmett walk in, both of them wearing serious expressions as they spoke quietly, but I paid them no mind. They weren't the ones I needed to speak with.

My attention had been on the door, unable to wait outside in the heat and humidity. I watched as several students poured in, some of them giving me curious, apprehensive looks, and others simply ignoring my existence.

Every person that came in who _wasn't _Edward made my anticipation spike. It made me a little peeved too because honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if he skipped. The only thing that reassured me was the fact that we had to give our presentation today. I really doubted he would miss that.

"Nothing. Why?" I continue to stare at the door, sighing as the flow of students coming in slows.

"You have _that _look on your face." At my inquisitive glance, she elaborates. "You know, the annoyed one. I just assumed he did something."

"I … I just need to speak to him. Is he here?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet. He was running late this morning, but he's coming. He should be here very soon, actually."

We make idle chit-chat as we head to our respective classes, talking about the upcoming Halloween season. Apparently, it's one of Alice's favorite holidays, adding something else we have in common to the list.

"I hope they put up the Halloween merchandise soon," I lament. My wishes are in vain, I know. Every year, once September rolls around, I'm the first one looking around the stores in Forks and Port Angeles, hoping to see new Halloween items out and ready to be purchased.

Every year, I'm disappointed. The stores never put them out until after the first weekend in October, which is a major bummer for someone like me. Sure, I could just buy them online, and mostly I do, but I like seeing them in person before I purchase them.

It never fails to get me excited for the holiday.

"I need to update my stock," I continue, sensing the familiar feeling of anticipation bubble within me.

"I can't wait to start decorating! I wanted to start on the first of September, but my parents said it was too soon," she says, making a face. Her displeasure transforms into a more devious one as she gives me a sly grin. "But, that didn't stop me from decorating my room!"

She laughs, the sound is exaggerated and maniacal. I can't help but laugh with her, trying to mimic the evil chuckle, but my impersonation falls short. I do, however, get a little joy at the student who rushes by us, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Alice giggles at his departure, stopping outside of her class. "That was fun."

"Welcome to the dark side," I say with a playful smirk.

Again, she giggles. "Oh, I have to give you the website that has _the best _Halloween décor," she trails off, rummaging through her bag and huffing a moment later.

"Do you have an extra pencil? Emmett took mine."

"Yeah."

I start to dig through my own bag, handing her various items to hold while I search for an extra pencil. She takes them without complaint, waiting patiently for me to acquire her request.

Finally, I manage to locate one at the bottom and reach to take the papers from her. My eyes bulge as I see the flyer for the art festival this weekend underneath my math notes. She says nothing about it and takes the pencil with a grateful smile.

Hoping she didn't see it, I stuff the papers back inside my bag.

"Thanks! I'll give it back to you at the end of the day."

"No need. I have more at home."

Happily, she nods. "You're giving your project today, right?"

"Yes, I'm super excited, and can hardly contain myself," I deadpan. "Can't you tell?"

Hearing my comment, Edward chuckles lowly and gives me a smile as he walks by. I stare at his back, wondering if he's going to make a comment, but he continues down the hall, his arm gently brushing against mine as he passes.

_Was that an accident? Did he do it on purpose? _

"Better get to class. I'll see you later," Alice shouts, darting off down the hall when the warning bell rings.

I take my seat and eye Edward with hawk-like precision as he walks by under the guise of throwing something in the trash. He slips a folded paper onto my desk, his fingers trailing against the side of my hand, and returns to his seat like nothing had happened.

His nonchalant attitude tells me more than anything; I know he touched me on purpose, so what's the deal?

Over my shoulder, I gaze at him with inquisitive curiosity, wondering what his angle is with everything he's doing lately.

If he's trying to drive me insane, he's on his way to accomplishing it.

Catching my gaze, he nods down to the small slip of paper he placed on my desk. Looking at it, I see it's a note, written in perfect script.

_**Calm down. Too much excitement will give you a heart attack. It's only a project.**_

As I look at him, he flashes a humorous grin and returns his gaze to the front of the class.

"What the hell …" I mutter to myself, shaking my head in shock.

When the time comes for us to give our presentation, I drag my feet up to the front of the class. Edward hands me the paper we wrote, silently telling me I'll be reading it. While I do, he sets up the presentation in silence, coming to stand next to me as I conclude the paper.

The presentation he delivers is flawless. He speaks fluidly with confidence and clarity, something no high school kid has, no matter who they are, especially when giving a presentation. Usually, there's stuttering, forgetting a word or some nervous habit like shuffling their feet, nervous laughter, or not maintaining eye contact.

With Edward, he's the exact opposite.

He stands tall and still, pointing out, describing, and explaining the information like he's at a board meeting in a Fortune 500 company.

The guys who weren't jealous of him before now steam with envy and the girls swoon and sigh so hard I'm surprised a gust of wind doesn't knock the papers off the teacher's desk.

To be honest, it's amazing and sickening to witness.

The presentation concludes with a smattering of applause, and while our peers don't look like they understand what we said, the teacher seems pleased, so that's a plus.

We take our seats and listen to the rest of the projects, all the while, I feel Edward's eyes on me. I do my best to ignore him and focus on what's being presented, but it's difficult.

When the bell rings, I jump out of my seat and practically leap toward Edward, who looks half amused and half shocked.

"You and I are talking," I firmly tell him.

"That's usually what happens when one person says something and the other replies."

Ignoring his snark, I motion toward the door. "We're talking … _privately._"

"You think so?"

Quirking an eyebrow, he sweeps his book into his arms and saunters out. I follow closely behind, tugging at the sleeve of his cotton shirt. He doesn't slow and continues walking away.

Frustrated, I speed my steps and walk in front of him, causing him to stop. Luckily, the classroom we're stopped in front of is an empty room for storage, and thankfully, unlocked.

Opening the door, I nod toward the room. "Go in. Now."

Amused, he chuckles lowly and steps inside, turning to face me as I close the door with a firm _click. _He watches me with humor dancing in his eyes, his lips twitching into a smile every now and then as he tries to keep his expression sober.

"Are you going to speak, or did you just lure me in here to stare at me?"

My mouth drops open, and I stutter for a moment before remembering what words are. "I don't want to stare, you ass."

"Really? Because I've caught you staring at me a lot this morning. Something … on your mind?" He questions, an underlying tone to his words.

"No!"

"You sure?" His eyes drop down slightly before rising once more. "You denied it awfully quick."

"You're acting weird!" I exclaim. "You're brushing against me, grazing my fingers … what's up with _that_?"

He shrugs innocently. "It was an accident. It happens when you're in a school as small as this. I apologize if it made you uncomfortable."

I narrow my eyes at his repentant tone, knowing—no, _feeling_—that deep in my gut, he's messing with me. I don't know why, but he is.

"Whatever," I grumble, using my free hand to rub at my temple. "This is _not _what I wanted to discuss."

"So what was it, then?"

Marching up to him, I inhale deeply, finding the scent I knew I'd find.

Edward jerks away, puzzled and astonished. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Just confirming my thoughts," I tell him proudly. "You _have_ been messing with me. You've been in my house, and you took my favorite shirt. Don't bother denying it, either. Your smell was all over it."

I watch him carefully, looking for any sign of guilt or panic, but instead, a slow smile eases its way onto his lips, much to my irritation.

"You've memorized my smell?"

"That's not the point!" I sputter through clenched teeth, feeling my face heat slightly.

"You were in my house. Explain yourself," I demand.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bella. Honestly. I was never in your house."

"I saw you!" I hiss. "I saw you _two times, _and my favorite shirt was _missing. _Last night, I saw you, and suddenly my shirt is back? That's not a coincidence. Now, I want to know _how _and _why. _Why are you breaking into my house?"

I wait for a moment, wondering if I really want to know. Can it be a good thing that he's been sneaking into my house? Not very likely, I think.

Seconds later, I've made up my mind. Holding up a hand, I shake my head. "No. Don't tell me. Just knock it off. _Or else. _It's just creepy, okay?"

He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head and shoving a hand in his hair. "I don't know what you're talking about. I _have not _been in your house. I think you're seeing things. Maybe you should consult someone about this. I don't think it's healthy."

For a brief second, I wonder if he's right. Have I been seeing things? Have I been experiencing phantom smells? I suppose anything is possible, especially with the way I've felt lately. It seems that in one way or another, my thoughts are always brought back to Edward, for some strange reason.

"You think about me?" Edward questions, with a broad, teasing smile.

Startled, my head jerks backward, and I stare at him, wide-eyed, wondering how he knew. It hits me then; I must have been mumbling to myself and he heard everything.

Great. As if his ego wasn't big enough.

"No," I scoff.

"Are you sure? You're not going to boil a bunny, are you?"

"Why, do you have one?" I sarcastically ask before rolling my eyes. "Your ego is out of this world. I don't think about you. It's a waste of time because you piss me off."

"Uh-huh," he replies, rocking back on his heels, that same annoying smirk on his lips. "It's hilarious when you're all riled up, you know."

Sneering, I flip him off. "Screw you, Cullen. Whatever game you're playing, knock it off. I'm serious."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy. I know you're doing _something._"

"Well, I want—"

He starts to reply, but a low buzzing from his pocket interrupts. Fishing it out, he stares at the screen, his jaw clenching. When he looks up at me, his once, dark golden eyes are black onyx, glittering like a cat at night.

My stomach flips and my heart thunders in my chest so hard, I'm sure if I stare hard enough, I can see the movement through my shirt.

The obvious look of fury raging in his eyes isn't what has me so nervous. I've seen it before and dealt with it plenty of times that I'm almost immune to it at this point.

No, what has me so apprehensive is what is swirling underneath the anger, something just as powerful; sadness.

"I have to go."

"Wait—"

Reaching out, I place my hand on his shoulder to stop him. He pauses, his posture stiff and rigid. He turns his head just enough to look at me out of the corner of his eye, but no more.

"What's … is everything okay?"

"It will be."

I'm left alone once more, feeling a little confused and a lot frustrated. I'm not sure what's going on with him, but this hot and cold teasing behavior needs to stop.

I need to get away … I need a long, extended break away from Forks and away from _him. _Maybe then I can figure out why he's bothering me so much.

Like lightning, the solution quickly hits me. Thanksgiving break will be happening soon. Sure, it's a couple of months away, but it'll be here in the blink of an eye.

It's the perfect chance to distance myself from Edward and go through an _Edward detox_. Maybe once I get some time away from him, I can figure out why and how he gets under my skin so easily.

Maybe we can even go to Florida and visit Gran. Sure, I know we're supposed to stay here, but it can't hurt to throw the suggestion out there.

Feeling like I'm back in control for the moment, I try to have a more optimistic outlook, focusing on the positive, rather than the negative.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll try to get the next chapter posted ASAP!**


	19. Chapter 19

**I know it's been a while, so I won't make this too long.  
**

**Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, and favorites this story. It means a lot to me!**

**Giant, huge, mega thanks goes to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for all of their help and support. I couldn't do this without them. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**I don't own Twilight ... and this makes me a little bummed. **

* * *

When the final bell rings on Friday, I'm out of the front doors and by Rose's car, my cell phone in hand.

Immediately, I dial Alice's number, tapping my foot against the pavement as I wait for her to answer. With each ring sounding in my ear, my foot pounds harder.

Alice, Edward, and Emmett haven't been to school in days. Apparently, Alice had one of her _headaches _during class and scared everyone to death by screaming hysterically.

If you listen to the rumors that are undoubtedly BS, she passed out in a heap shortly after, which prompted calls for ambulances, doctors, and _Dr. Cullen himself_ to come and save the life of his only daughter.

The only part I _might _believe is Dr. C coming to get Alice, especially if she reacted the way everyone swears up and down she did. Everything else is a lie.

I've tried calling Alice many times since then, but she never answers the phone. I _did _get one short text from her two days ago, telling me she's okay.

That's it.

_I'm okay. _

While it's nice she texted me, it's not exactly reassuring since it was only a brief message.

Her voicemail picks up, her cheery voice filling my ear. I sigh, not bothering to leave a message and hang up, patting the device against my chin as I wonder whether Alice is truly well and what I should do to find out.

I suppose I could go over to her house, but I find it kind of rude to show up uninvited. On the other hand, what choice do I have? Alice isn't answering my calls or texts, save for the first one, and the other Cullens haven't been to school in days.

There's little I can do to help them, but maybe I can offer emotional support?

With my mind made up, I look over the crowd for Rose and Jasper, spotting them exiting the building together. Jasper is talking on his cell, and Rose follows closely behind, watching him closely, looking as if she wants to interrupt, but is refraining.

Once more, my foot beats against the concrete as I wait for them to reach me, anxious to get a move on to the Cullen place.

My phone vibrating in my hand makes me jump, and eagerly, I answer not bothering to look at the screen.

"Hello?"

"Bella," Edward's smooth voice comes through the speaker, sounding as if he's standing right next to me instead of through the device in my hand. I shiver, leaning against the car and mentally curse at my stupidity.

"How did you get my number?" I ask once I collect myself.

"Well, there are two possibilities. One, you called my cell phone from _your _cell while we were working on the project, and I saved it, or I stole it from Alice's phone."

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth, shaking my head slowly. "I'm going with option number two. You're creepy."

"I never said I wasn't."

"I'm glad you're finally admitting it. How's Alice? Is she okay?"

"Didn't she send you a text?"

"Forgive me if I don't put too much trust in a text."

When he speaks, his voice is surprised. "You're really worried about her, aren't you?"

"Of course. I told you, I'm not heartless. So? Is she okay? I hear a lot of noise but have no answers."

"Take a Midol."

"Bite me."

He chuckles but replies to my question. "She's fine," he softly replies. "Not feeling like herself, but she'll be okay."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I sag further against the car, turning my back to Rose and Jasper as they get closer.

"Good. What about you and Emmett? Why are you not at school?"

"Aw, you're worried about me," he teases.

I scoff. "Don't confuse curiosity and nosiness with concern. I just want the upper hand on the rumor mill."

He hums, the sound full of humor. I ignore him and turn toward Rose and Jasper as I hear them start to bicker by the front of the car. Rolling my eyes, I walk toward the trunk to have a semblance of privacy.

"Okay, don't call or text me anymore, got it? I don't even like talking to you face to face."

"No late-night sex calls or nude pictures. Got it," he replies in a solemn tone. For a moment, I think he might actually be serious, but his muffled laughter seconds later negate the thought. "What about if I have a sleepless night? Can I call you to talk about my thoughts on life and the universe we live in?"

I bite my lip to contain my laugh and force out a sigh instead, hoping it sounds genuine.

"You're warped. Lose my number … and tell Alice I said hi, please?"

"I'll tell her. Bye, Bella."

Heading back toward the quarreling siblings, I stand by, trying to figure out why they're arguing. Soon, my question is answered.

"Just let it go, already!" Rose complains, throwing her hands in the air. "Emmett is obviously too busy to answer your calls."

Jasper scowls, a tinge of redness rising from his chest to his forehead. "Jesus, you're so bitter. I'm concerned, okay! What if something is seriously wrong?"

There's nothing but silence between the three of us as Rose and Jasper engage in a showdown. Their eyes narrowed, lips pursed so tightly they almost disappear and slow, steady breathing that is never a good sign when tempers are flaring.

When Rose finally does speak, her tone is controlled, but tight. "If something _is _wrong, then it's none of your business anyway. It's a _family _matter, Jasper. _Their _family. Leave them alone."

He rolls his eyes with a huff. "I'm just concerned. You know, like a _good _person would be. Just because you hate them doesn't mean you can't have a heart."

"I have a heart. I just don't see the need in worrying endlessly and calling him like a psychotic stalker. When there's something for you to know, he'll answer the phone." Rose mutters something else under her breath, but it's far too low for us to hear.

"And what if something is terribly wrong, huh?" He persists.

"Okay, enough of this," Rose grounds out. "Everyone knows Alice had a little _episode. _She's sick; obviously, they're sticking by her side to make sure she's okay. They're not going to be glued to their phones and answer it every time it rings because _you _wouldn't do that if you were in their shoes. You'd be focused on the person who needs the attention." She pauses, and Jasper looks down at the ground, knowing she's right. "Now, leave it and _them _alone. For good. They're nothing but trouble anyway. They probably changed their minds about being your friends, like they've done with everything else."

Storming to me, she jumps in the driver's seat and slams the door, starting the car immediately. Jasper gazes at me, incredulously, and I shake my head and raise my hands because I honestly have no clue why she's acting this way.

Going over to the other side, I reach for the passenger door, knowing he doesn't want to be anywhere near her right now.

Just before I open it, Jasper places a hand on my arm.

"Do you think I'm being stupid about this whole thing?"

"No," I reply instantly. "But Rose has a point; if you were in their shoes and Rose was sick, you'd be doing the same thing."

He nods. "I'd do the same for you, too, you know."

I smile, knowing the truth. "Of course. You'd be lost without me."

Chuckling, he gets in the car. As soon as I'm in, Rose takes off. The tension is thick, but luckily, it's not that far of a drive.

Mom meets us by the door with a tight smile on her face, her arms wrapped around her chest. Moving closer, I can clearly see her eyes are red, and there are splotches on her cheeks ... the tension rolling off her in waves.

"How was school?"

"What's wrong?" Roses asks before I can.

Mom waves away her worry and chuckles half-heartedly. "Oh, I'm just being a worrywart. It's been a hard day for your Uncle Charlie. Deputy Mark finally sent him home an hour ago. He's been working non-stop for days without me knowing. He's … stressed."

Rose gives her quiet reassurances before moving into the house while Jasper kisses her cheek as he passes.

"Has another person gone missing?"

The pained look on her face says more than words ever could. "Let's not talk about that now, okay?"

Instead of arguing, I nod and head inside, taking my bag up upstairs, making sure to pocket my cell phone. On the way back down, I hear the low bass of music coming from Rose's room and know it's another day where she's still struggling. Underneath the music, I hear her voice, though I just hear one piece.

"—not answering me now?"

I wait, wondering who she's talking to, but the music drowns out her voice, and I give up.

In the kitchen, Jasper sits talking quietly with Mom and Dad, who has dark circles under his eyes, and his skin seems to look paler than usual.

I don't know what Jasper is saying to them, but they laugh heartily, their down and dreary expression being replaced with joy and laughter in mere minutes. It makes me grateful for Jasper being able to lighten things up so quickly.

Going to join them, I stumble over something under my feet and go tumbling toward the table, palms forward. Dad reaches out to catch me, but luckily, I manage to right myself on the chair. Looking back, I see Jasper's backpack on the floor, scuffed from my shoes.

"Watch it, Bella!"

"Maybe if you would pick up your crap, it wouldn't get trashed!"

"Just kick it off to the side," he grumbles.

"You were _not_ raised in a barn, Jasper," my mother scolds. "If you don't have any homework, take your bag to your room; otherwise, treat your belongings with care. A lot of people can't afford such things; you shouldn't take them for granted."

Thoroughly reprimanded, Jasper sulks off to his room. I join my parents at the table, folding my hands on the cool surface and look at them seriously.

"You know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking we should get away for Thanksgiving break; get out of town and see some sights."

Dad manages a grin and smooths his mustache with his thumb and index finger. "Right. And where do you propose we go?"

"Florida, to see Gran. We could get some sun, stay on the beach. It'll be a blast."

"And what about my Thanksgiving dinner?" Mom inquires, looking hurt. "You know I wanted to cook dinner this year. Your Gran won't let me do that. I wanted to cook, and I promise I won't make anything non-traditional. I have a whole meal plan set up. Look."

Mom reaches for a notebook, flipping the pages and pointing to a page that's littered with her messy scrawl. With every portion of the dinner she points out, my hope disappears quicker than Edward when he's pissed off.

Still, I have to try.

"Maybe she'll let you cook?" I supply hopefully, knowing the words are dumb as soon as they leave my mouth. Gran isn't one for multiple cooks in her kitchen. Helpers, sure, but someone else doing the majority of the cooking? Not a chance in hell.

Mom gives me a disbelieving look, but it's Dad who answers. "Sorry, kid. We're staying here … and unfortunately,"—he takes a quick, fearful peek at my mother and swallows thickly—"my mother is coming up here for Thanksgiving. She confirmed it yesterday."

"Charlie," my mother says, astonished and outraged. "When were you going to tell me? I thought you were sending her on a cruise?"

He takes a moment to think about his words, knowing he's in deep shit. "That was my original intention, but by the time I got around to calling her, she had already booked the tickets."

Mom gives him the stink eye and takes a few deep breaths. "Fine," she says, her tone a lot calmer than what she looks. "When is she coming, and how long is she staying?"

"She's coming the day before Thanksgiving and leaving the day after … and don't worry, Renee. I made her promise to be on her best behavior, and she gave me her word. I think she's happy she's not going to cook this year, so I think everything will be okay."

Mom sighs, covering her face with her hands. "This is going to be such a mess. So much for a stress-free holiday."

"Why do you say that? Mom is a handful, but she's not _that _bad."

She removes her hands and looks at my father with trepidation. "My parents are coming too. They're back from France and wanted to spend the holidays here."

Dad swallows, his face paling. I understand his fear. Gran Marie and Grandma Higginbotham do _not _get along. And the fact that Grandpa George and Gran get along fine, only adds fuel to my Grandmother's fire.

Whenever they're in a room together, they constantly argue, bicker, and nitpick the other's parenting, traditions, and lifestyle.

This should be fun.

"I'll make it up to you," Dad promises quickly. "Somehow, I will. I promise."

Mom nods once and leans down to hiss something in his ear. Whatever she says makes him go pale and makes me extremely thankful she decided to whisper.

"Are you okay, Dad?"

Reaching forward, he pats my hand, squeezing it once. "I'll be fine, don't you worry. This will be resolved soon."

Nodding, I stand and start to head into the living room, but the next words out of Dad's mouth has me freezing.

"What time is your art festival tomorrow?"

Slowly, I turn and catch my parent's wide grins. "How'd you know about that?"

"You should know better than to keep things from me. I'm a super cop," he says with a smirk. Upon seeing my unamused face, he sighs and shakes his head, like I've wounded him deeply, before explaining. "The wife of one of my deputies is involved in putting everything together. She saw your name on the list of artists."

Loudly, I groan and drop my head toward my chest. "You can't come. It's not for _me _personally, so it would be a waste of your time."

"Oh, suck it up. We're going."

"Dad," I start, but he interrupts.

"It'll be nice for everyone," he tells me, an underlying meaning to his words.

Knowing there's no way out of this, I blow out a long breath. "Fine."

Dad smiles triumphantly, while Mom squeals and claps her hands. For the first time in days, her eyes are sparkling with excitement.

"I must say I'm curious," Mom says once she's settled down. "Why are you doing this now? I've been begging you to do this for so long."

Back at the table, I jerk a single shoulder upward, feeling a little uncomfortable with telling them. I'm not ashamed or anything, but the reason why I didn't want my parents—or anyone else I know—at the art fair is so I could do this on my own.

I want to do this by myself, not only to prove my art is worth something but also so there won't be any witnesses if my effort bombs.

"I'm not doing this for me, so I don't deserve the attention, okay? A friend of mine needs the money for a special program, and I'm hoping someone will buy it so I can give her the money. I didn't know of another way to do it."

There's a beat of silence until my mother squeals, rushing around to my side of the table, gripping me in a tight hug and placing kisses all over my face.

"Mom," I whine dramatically.

"You're so sweet! Charlie, did you know our baby girl was so sweet?"

He doesn't get a chance to reply before Jasper walks back in.

"What's all this for?"

"Bella is submitting one of her art pieces to the art fair to help a friend. I have no idea why she didn't tell us in the first place."

"What'd you do, sprinkle holy water on her?"

I release a full belly laugh at his statement, keeping it up for a good twenty seconds before I stop, allowing my face to fall into a blank, unamused mask. "Hysterical."

Turning away, I face Mom. "I have an image to uphold. I don't want people thinking I'm going soft."

"Seriously, though," Jasper says, lightly punching my arm. "That's cool. I'll be there. Maybe we can get Rose to come too."

Knowing there's no way around this, I sigh, effectively admitting defeat.

8*8*8*8*8

Saturday is a riot of people and noise. It's not exactly how I like to spend my mornings, but with caffeine in my system and knowing this is for a good cause, I'm surprisingly content.

Walking down the street, I look at the booths of the fair, admiring the varying work around me. Mrs. Masters assured me when I showed up this morning, I was free to look around, and she would handle anyone wanting to purchase a piece of artwork for anyone who wanted to explore.

I took her up on the offer. Standing around for hours on end, feeling like a showpiece, is not my idea of a good time.

Plus, I was getting antsy with each crowd of people that walked by. I wanted to scream for them to buy my art, but I figured that would be too much.

The fair is actually cooler than I thought it would be. In the past, I've never been interested in going because I never thought there wouldn't be stuff here I liked, but actually, there are tons.

Not only are there detailed paintings, drawings, and sketches, but there are handmade dresses, jewelry and tons of other handcrafted items for home and personal use.

A couple of items have caught my eye: a beautiful purple and black braided bracelet interwoven with purple and black glass beads, and some handcrafted jasmine and vanilla perfume. The price is a little steep to be spending on myself, so I take some time to think about it.

In the meantime, I walk further through the fair, spotting a few little things for my family and friends. I purchase them right away, and I'm returned with huge smiles and many thanks.

By the time I decide to go ahead and walk back to the items that have caught my eye, they've been purchased. While I'm disappointed, I can't expect anything less.

You snooze, you lose.

Slowly, I stroll through the fair, observing what I missed while I was shopping. As I look at a jewelry box, I hear the familiar laugh of my mother.

Turning, I spot her immediately, walking through the crowd with my father, cousins … and most of the Cullens.

Carlisle and Esme are chatting with my parents and Jasper, smiling and laughing at whatever is being said. Behind them, Edward and Emmett are walking, their eyes vigilant over the vast crowd.

Rose trails behind them, her eyes unabashedly boring holes into the back of Emmett's head, He seems oblivious, but I can see his eyes seeking her out whenever he stops to look at something. A couple of times, it seems as if he's going to turn and say something, but he stops, his shoulders dropping each time as he heaves a heavy sigh.

"There she is!" my mother says, rushing forward and pulling me into a hug. "We've been looking for you."

Behind her, Edward waves with a smirk, chuckling under his breath as I exaggerate a frown in his direction.

"Hi, everyone. Enjoying yourselves?"

"We are. There are so many beautiful things, and I have a wish list a mile long."

"She does," Dad confirms. "My bank account is weeping."

Mom playfully backhands his stomach, making the air whoosh from his lungs and the elder Cullens laugh. Still in the back, Edward and Emmett whisper to one another, both of them pointing in different directions and nodding.

Edward leans forward, grabbing his father's arm and murmurs something to him before pulling back.

Dad and Rose watch them closely, following them with their eyes as they disappear through the crowd of people.

"Where's your piece, Bella?" Mom inquires, again getting my attention. "We can't find it. Shouldn't you be with it in case someone wants to buy it?"

"Mrs. Masters, the woman in charge, said it was okay. She's handling the purchases for the art pieces and encouraged me to walk around."

Mom smiles and grabs Dad's hand, pulling him forward. "That's wonderful, and honey, we're so proud of you."

"Please, stop. It's not a big deal."

"Of course, it is. You're helping a friend."

"It's very admirable, Bella," Esme chimes in with a gentle smile. Carlisle nods in agreement, looking a little distracted, but still friendly.

"How's Alice doing?"

"She's fine," Carlisle answers, seemingly back in the present moment after Esme elbows him in the stomach. "She'll be back to her normal self soon enough."

The ringing of a phone captures his attention, and he steps away, walking through the crowd to find a quieter area to talk. Esme excuses herself and follows after him.

Shortly after, I hear my mother's voice, but I can't make out what she's saying over the crowd. Figuring she's attempting to persuade Dad into buying something, I tune her out and focus on Rose and Jasper, standing on either side of me.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find your work. I have to see how bad it is," Jasper teases.

"Go fall in the sewer with the clowns!"

He laughs, though I do see him warily eye the sewer grate just before he's swallowed by the crowd.

Looking at Rose, I see her eyes narrowed on nothing in particular and gently nudge her side.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," she murmurs. "Your piece was beautiful."

"You saw it? When?"

"When I first got here. I stopped by the art section and searched it out. It was … amazing. You have a natural talent."

I scoff, knowing there are other, more beautiful paintings here than mine. I had seen them. "You're biased."

Rose's lips quirk into a small smile, and she holds her index and thumb finger half an inch apart. "Maybe this much. But it doesn't change the fact that I think it's the best … and I'm proud of you for doing this."

"Well, I _am_ awesome," I say playfully.

"That's another thing; you're so modest."

"That too."

She laughs, trailing off with a sigh as she straightens and brushes off imaginary lint and wrinkles from her clothes. "I'm going to look around."

With the way she was shooting laser beams at Emmett and following him with her eyes, I have to wonder if she's going to seek him out. I don't know why or what for, though. I suppose I could ask, but I know it'll only get me into trouble.

Instead, I wave goodbye. "Have fun. Buy me a present."

Twenty minutes later, my feet are screaming at me for walking around so much. Going back to the booth where a table, chair, and my piece are waiting seems like a really good idea right about now.

Up ahead, I spot Emmett and Rose standing close together, exchanging heated words.

"I don't know why I even entertained the thought of you!" Rose seethes. "You're so back and forth it's driving me insane."

I repress a snort, a part of me relieved that Edward's whiplash behavior isn't just limited to him. I'm also somewhat surprised Rose is admitting to liking him. I figured she was crushing on him, but I had no idea she was thinking about dating him.

In all honesty, I think he would be good for her. He's the perfect match for her serious behavior and attitude.

"You wanna know why? Because I'm not sure you're ready for that. I think you're still getting over everything that's happened to you. You may not know it, but sometimes I see you look around nervously. I still see you flinch. I also hear you talk badly about yourself. When I date you, I want you to be ready, to be yourself … to _love _yourself." He pauses, bringing a hand up to her face and running his fingers down the side. "When I date you, I want you to love yourself, so _I _can love you. I want you to be sure because when we're going to be together, it's not going to be for a few months or years. It's going to be forever."

"I don't know what you mean," she replies, her voice soft and small. "I love myself. You're just making excuses because you know about what happened to me and want an easy out."

He raises an eyebrow in challenge, crossing his arms over his chest. "You _know _that's not true in the slightest. Tell you what, you name one thing you love about yourself, and we'll go on a date right now."

She starts to reply but stops suddenly, the irritation fading into one of sadness when she comes up with nothing.

"Exactly," he softly tells her. "You're amazing, Rosalie. You're beautiful and kind and fierce. It's my dream to be with you. When you're ready, when you can stop flinching when I come up to you unexpectedly, when you can find one thing you love about yourself, you and I will _so _be on."

Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping on their conversation, I scurry away, awed, and in shock by Emmett's heartfelt words.

I'm pissed at myself that I didn't notice Rose was still struggling with the aftermath of everything. I should have watched her closer and been there for her.

Knowing I can't change the past, I'll settle for changing the present and the future. I'll help Rose find ways to love herself so she can move on with her life because she deserves to be happy.

On the sidewalk and away from the bustling crowd, I see Mr. Mallory talking quietly with my dad. From the look on my father's face, it's nothing good. Being nosy, I head over, slowing my steps when I notice Mr. Mallory's red eyes and haggard face.

Dad catches me approaching and gives me a sad smile. "Bella," he says, raising an arm in an inviting gesture.

"Hey. Hi, Mr. Mallory."

He tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a painful grimace. "Hello, Bella," he croaks. "I'm terribly sorry to be interrupting your time at the art fair."

"It's fine."

"I have a question for you if you don't mind?"

"Now, Richard, I don't think—"

"Charlie, please. She said she was supposed to meet him." Mr. Mallory turns to me then, a pleading expression on his face. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I'm happy to help."

He dips his head in thanks, and his choked-back sob is audible over the noise of the crowd. "You said my nephew, Arthur, was supposed to meet you in front of the art gallery earlier this week, correct?"

A knot forms in my gut, and I swallow back the lump that's risen in my throat. "Yeah."

"What did he say? Did he say anything beforehand?"

"I didn't see him. He texted me and asked if I wanted to meet up in Port Angeles sometime. I told him I would be in town that day and to meet me at the art gallery. He said he would be there, but he never showed. I tried texting him while I waited, but he never replied. Is … what's going on?"

Mr. Mallory swallows thickly, his hazel eyes glossing over with tears. When he speaks, his words are choked and gruff. "He's missing. Or he's run away. I know something bad happened. He hasn't answered any calls, texts. None of his friends have heard from him or seen him. Lauren said he drove her into town, but never met back up with her. My sister is beside herself. We don't …"

He stops, sobbing loudly into his fist, biting his knuckles to keep his cries to a minimum. My dad steps toward him, speaking quietly but firmly while I stagger backward, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

Arthur wouldn't just run away, would he? From the way he spoke, you could tell he loves his mother dearly. He has a genuinely kind soul; there's no way on earth he would just leave without saying something … would he?

Posters of missing people flash in front of my eyes, and I shake my head, trying to clear the possibility away.

No. No way. He's just run away. Nothing bad has happened to him.

Their conversation seemingly over, Mr. Mallory walks away, and Dad steps in front of me, bending his knees to meet my eyes.

"You okay, kid?" he asks, grabbing my shoulders.

"Do you think he ran away?"

Dad releases my shoulders, sighing heavily. "Honestly? Everything I've seen points to yes. According to the police here in Port Angeles, Arthur expressed to friends his … _annoyance _with certain things in his life. More than one told the police he expressed irritation at his cousin, Lauren."

I don't bother to hide my snort. No big surprise there.

"He also was very tired of his home life," Dad continues.

"Arthur never said anything like that to me, Dad."

"And how well did you know this boy?" He raises an eyebrow, and I roll my eyes.

"Physically, emotionally, or personally?"

"Bella," Dad groans, his head falling forward.

"I didn't know him that well, calm down. We weren't dating. We were becoming friends."

"Well, then it's possible he didn't think he should share that with someone he didn't know well. Hell, his lifelong friends said they had to drag it out of him because they noticed something was off."

I nod, seeing his point. But something still doesn't make sense.

"Why would he ask to meet up with me?"

"Witnesses say he and Lauren were in an argument and she confirmed it … perhaps it was the last straw."

I'm silent for a moment, trying to process everything. Even with the knot in my gut, hope slowly rises within me.

"Is it bad that I'm hoping he _did _run away?"

Dad shakes his head, pulling me into a short hug. "With all the missing person reports? No, sweetie. I'm hoping for the same thing."

I release the breath I didn't know I was holding and give my father a small smile in thanks.

"Go enjoy your art fair, kid. I'll let you know if anything new comes up, okay?"

"Thanks, Dad."

"Of course, kid. I have to go find your mother," he says, looking over my head. After a second, he gives up, knowing there's no way he'll spot her in this vast crowd. "She's probably buying everything that speaks to her."

I laugh because he's probably right. "Okay. Be careful."

"Always am."

Wandering back through the crowd, my mind is on Arthur. I'm _really _hoping he just ran away. While it's not the nicest thing to wish, especially since his uncle and mother are worried sick, at least it's better than the alternative. At least there will be hope that one day he'll return home.

He better not be hurt, because if he is … there will be hell to pay. No one messes with my friends_. No one._

I walk back toward where the paintings are kept, and Mrs. Masters excitedly waves for me to join her.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so glad I found you. I have great news! Someone purchased your art!" Her words trail off in a high note, resembling a squeal. It's hard to imagine the woman in front of me with neat hair and an impassive face making such a sound, but it happened.

Her excitement rubs off on me, and I find myself grinning broadly. "Really? That's awesome!"

"It is! They paid in cash, and way more than we were asking for, but I won't argue. A sale is a sale," Mrs. Masters says with a light laugh. She removes a white envelope from her pocket and hands it over with a smile. "Here you are. Congratulations, Bella. I hope to see your artwork hanging in my gallery sometime soon. Contact me, and I'll set something up ASAP."

"Maybe," I reply, eager to see how much I got for my work. I didn't put a price on it because I suck at that type of thing, but Mrs. Masters assured me she'd handle the pricing, and I trust her. It's what she does, after all.

Opening the envelope, I discreetly count the money inside, and my jaw drops.

"Uh, I think this is a mistake," I say lowly, shaking my head.

"What? Did I not give you the full amount?" Mrs. Masters takes the envelope from me and counts the contents quickly before handing it back. "No, that's correct."

I sputter. "Are you … are you … is this some kind of fucking joke?"

Mrs. Masters frowns at my language.

"Shit. Damn. Sorry. But are you serious? Someone paid four hundred and fifty dollars for my work?"

"Yes. I was surprised at first too, but they insisted on it."

"Who bought it?"

"I can't say. They didn't leave a name."

"Can you describe them?"

I'll hunt them down and kiss them for essentially giving Jess a considerable amount of the money she needs.

Mrs. Masters frowns. "I'm sorry, they asked to remain anonymous."

Immediately, I have a feeling I know who is responsible.

The Cullens. They're the only people here I know who could possibly spend that much money on something.

I try to track them down through the crowd, but the only person I find is Esme, who is talking on her phone with a serious expression on her face. When she sees me, she smiles.

"I'll call you back, Alice."

"Is everything all right?" I ask when she hangs up.

"Oh, yes. I was just checking up on her."

Nodding, I take a deep breath, feeling a little embarrassed, but so grateful for her help.

"I won't keep you. I just wanted to thank you."

Her lips pull down in confusion. "For what, dear?"

"For buying my piece."

Esme shakes her head, understanding dawning on her features. "I didn't buy it. Honestly, I was hoping I would get the chance, but everything has been so hectic." Disappointment clouds over her face and she sighs heavily, put out at the missed opportunity.

"I wanted a Bella Swan original. I have a feeling you're going to go places. Would you be interested in selling me another one of your works?" She questions, hopeful.

"Uh, sure," I murmur, distracted.

If it wasn't Esme, then who the hell bought it?

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Everything in my RL is still hectic and I also haven't been feeling the greatest lately, but I want to thank you for being so patient in between updates. I really appreciate it. :) **


	20. Chapter 20

**Hi! I meant to post this yesterday, but things happened that made it difficult. Sorry!  
Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews!  
**

**Fran, Monica03, and Mr G and Me ... thank you for all of your support. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Bella," Mom warbles in an over-the-top opera falsetto, bouncing on my bed. Blinking heavily, I give a lethargic smile as I watch her arms wave around dramatically, her fingers wriggling in a "jazz hands" motion. "Happy birthday to you!"

My cheeks hurt with my broad smile, but I can't seem to stop.

This is a silly tradition, something my mother has always done, probably since my birth. I'm glad, even though I'm now eighteen, she hasn't stopped waking me this way. It's something I've come to look forward to every year and it's the only day, other than Halloween, that I'll voluntarily get up early for without complaint.

"Thanks, Mom," I reply.

After I uncover myself from my blankets and sit against the wooden headboard, the painted orchids, ivy, and night sky now faded with time. Mom pulls me into a tight hug and I groan in mock distaste as she begins to plaster kiss after kiss on my forehead and cheeks.

Pulling back, her huge grin melts into a smaller one of contentment as she stares at me, brushing my unruly hair behind my ears, holding my cheeks between her palms.

"Happy Birthday, baby," she whispers, her tone wistful.

A wave of emotion hits me so hard I have to clear my throat and playfully roll my eyes so I don't start blubbering.

She sees right through me, however, and smiles knowingly, but remains silent, shifting to sit beside me. My father stands behind her, holding a chocolate frosted cake with eighteen candles burning brightly in the muted light of the room. Rose and Jasper stand on either side of him, their hands full of purple and blue wrapped packages and bags.

Jasper yawns loudly but manages a sleepy smile. Rose's posture is relaxed and carefree, for the first time in weeks.

I had planned to bring up her spirits by listing everything I admire about her, but as it turns out, she didn't need it. After a weekend away at Vera's, Rose came back a new woman.

When questioned about it, she listed everything she's happy about, which is everything most of us are happy about, too.

Royce is in jail and going to stay there for a long time. Word has it, he's already made enemies there, after he ran his mouth and pissed off the wrong people. He's been jumped and beaten to a pulp twice, the last being the worst. His father is trying to get him moved to another facility, but he hasn't had much luck so far.

With Lauren away, that hasn't been an issue either. Although, for the first time, I must say I _do _enjoy seeing pictures of her. Somehow, someone got a hold of photos of her in an orangey-beige jumpsuit, picking up trash along the side of the road.

No one in her former friend's circle has tried anything with Rose, though they have tried to suck up to her. Rose hasn't bought it and tells them promptly to go screw themselves.

Not only that, she's been smiling a lot more lately, humming under her breath and dressing up more often.

I'm taking this as a good sign that she took Emmett's advice and found things she loves about herself. I hope everything else will fall into place for her, whether she wants to date Emmett or not.

"Hurry up and blow these candles out," Dad complains with a teasing grin. "You'll burn the house down before too long."

"Ha! Wait until _your _birthday."

Dad snorts, shaking his head. "I'm not aging ever again."

This time, it's _me _who snorts. Dad brings the cake closer and I pause for a moment, not really knowing what I want to wish for, so I keep it on hold for now.

After the candles are blown out, I hold my hands out toward Rose and Jasper, wriggling my fingers impatiently.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme."

Mom laughs and makes room for Dad, who places a kiss on the top of my head and murmurs a birthday greeting.

"Here, you pain the ass," Jasper says, handing his stack of gifts over. "Happy birthday."

Rose elbows Jasper in the gut as she leans down, adding her stack to the pile on my bed. "Really? Was that necessary?"

He rolls his eyes with a slight huff of annoyance, but keeps hold of his good mood, giving me a wink as he continues to tease me. "What? Everyone knows Bella is a pain. That's why we love her."

Dad chuckles lightly, diverting the conversation to the _important _matters at hand. "A few of those are from your mom and me. Your gran's and your grandparent's card is downstairs on the table."

Without opening it, I already know what they've sent; the same thing they send every year: money. Which is fine by me, honestly. If it were up to Gran Marie, I'd be wearing bright, flowing, hippy colors. As for my Grandmother Beth, well, her choice in gifts are more suitable for the rich elite, country club members rather than a teenager.

For now, I focus on the presents I don't know about and tear into them like a five-year-old.

In the end, I come out with two sets of sketching pencils and paper from Rosalie, a gift card to buy books and a collection of horror movies from Jasper and new clothes and shoes, as well as perfume and a few pieces of jewelry from the art fair from my parents. I give them each enthusiastic hugs and we all head downstairs for a light breakfast, followed by a small serving of cake.

Well, _they _get a small serving.

I cut myself the biggest slice, immediately scarfing down my eggs and toast before moving on to my treat.

It's not the most nutritious breakfast, but it's part of the tradition.

Rose looks nauseated at the sight of it, but she doesn't say anything.

After I'm dressed in my new black jeans, sneakers, and deep purple corset top with mesh sleeves from my parents, the doorbell rings. We all exchange confused glances, watching Dad he goes to the door.

"Bella, I think this is for you," he calls out moments later.

Curious, I join Dad at the door, seeing a matte purple gift bag sitting on the doorstep with curled, purple and black ribbons tied to the handle.

Vaguely, I wonder who could have dropped this off.

None of my friends would pull a duck and run like this.

Well, maybe Jess … but that doesn't seem likely. She doesn't ever buy me gifts; she makes them herself and sticks them in my locker.

Angela is another option, but she too, gives me a gift at school. Plus, if she did happen to drop it off here, she would have stayed to see me open it.

The only other person I know of that knows about my birthday is Alice. If it were her or someone in her family, wouldn't they have stuck around?

Unless … could it have been Edward?

Briefly, I pause, wondering what the chances are that he _did _drop this off. His behavior has been so strange with me, I have no idea what the hell he's going to say or do. I don't even know what to call it.

Are we acquaintances? Friends? Enemies? Frenemies?

There's been too much up and down to know for sure.

The thought of his strange behavior has me gazing up and down the street and around our house, trying to see if anyone is still lurking about.

"What's the matter, kid?"

"What if it's a bomb?" I whisper, only half-serious.

Dad sucks air through his teeth, nodding with a serious expression, though I do see the gleam of humor shining in his eyes. "I see your point. Open it out here, will you? I almost have this house paid off."

Sarcastically, I laugh before allowing my expression to fall.

"If I'm going down, I'm taking everyone with me," I deadpan, snatching the bag up from the porch as I march back inside, determined to put an end to the wondering once and for all.

"Hey now," Dad playfully complains. "Family means sacrifice!"

Ignoring him and sitting on the stairs, my family gathers around me curiously. Mom and Dad whisper to themselves before focusing on me as I pry open the taped bag and pull out the first thing my hands touch.

A simple white envelope with bubbly letters spelling out my name is on the front. Opening it, I see a rather amusing sight; on the cover is cartoon-style drawing of a cemetery with broken headstones, dead grass, and fog. Popping up through the gray smoke is a rotted hand with tattered clothes.

Below him reads, _**The scariest part about today is not the zombies, ghosts, goblins or witches … **_and upon opening it, the message continues, _**it's the fact that you're another year older!**_

Underneath, is a handwritten note written in the messiest elegant cursive I've ever seen. I never thought it was possible to have beautifully messy handwriting, but Alice has achieved it.

_**Bella, I hope you have an awesome birthday! I'm sorry I couldn't give this to you in person, but hopefully, I'll see you soon! This isn't a traditional birthday card per se, but I thought you'd get a kick out of it. **_

_**My gift is in the purple skull wrapping paper, my parents' gift is in the blue bubble envelope, and Emmett's is in the black envelope. I hope you enjoy them! Happy Birthday! ~Alice **_

Along with Alice's message are small notes wishing me a happy birthday from her parents as well as Emmett. I smile at their thoughtfulness and pass the card to my mother, who requests to see it. She gushes over the card, reading the inner portion with a smile.

"_Emmett _gave you a gift?" Rose asks, her tone soft. "That was … nice of him."

For now, I ignore her, though I see Jasper staring curiously, an eyebrow poised in question. Ignoring him too, I pull out the first thing on the pile of three; the black envelope. I tear into it with a strange giddiness, finding I had a right to be.

Inside, are three season passes to the haunted house Port Angeles hosts every year. I haven't gone to it much, considering tickets cost way too much. However, it appears I'm going this year; I won't let these bad boys go to waste.

Beside me, Jasper gasps, his eyes wide. "You got … you got the passes. Holy crap! They're VIP! You're taking me with you, right?"

He doesn't wait for me to reply, instead, he follows up his statement with a resolute, "you're taking me."

Mom and Rose both reprimand him, but he doesn't look ashamed. Instead, his eyes remain on the tickets in my hand, like they're tickets to the lost city of Atlantis.

Tapping the stiff cardboard against my chin, I screw my face up while I pretend to think about it.

"Hmm. Maybe. I don't know who I'm taking yet."

Jasper whines, but I ignore him as Dad's cell phone rings. He makes a sound of annoyance, his eyes briefly flicking to the screen before looking at me with a tight smile.

"Sorry, kiddo."

He walks outside, closing the door with a firm click behind him. Mom stares after him, her fingers pulling at the collar of her bright, neon green T-shirt.

Focused on us once more, Mom nods in toward the rest of the gifts. Eagerly, I pull out the wrapped gift and tear it open. Amazed, I slowly pull out the silky soft, black cotton jacket with standing collar, lace sleeves, and huge brass buttons going down the front. I move my hands over the fabric reverently, feeling like I just stepped into the Victorian Era.

"Wow," I breathe. "This is amazing."

"It's very beautiful," Mom agrees. Surprisingly, Rose is nodding along with her.

Setting the jacket carefully aside, I pull out the final envelope from Carlisle and Esme, finding a weekend pass to the Port Angeles Theater the weekend before Halloween.

The details state there's going to be a horror movie marathon happening that Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, from five in the evening to midnight.

Along with it is a gift card so I can buy drinks and snacks.

With my giddiness through the roof, I stomp my feet on the stairs and uncharacteristically squeal, trying to refrain from crushing the paper in my hands.

Once more, Jasper is green with envy, nearly salivating at the passes in my hand.

"You have to take me, Bella. No one else will appreciate and enjoy those as much as I do."

Hopping up, I shrug. "Like I said, I'll think about it."

I smirk when I catch his angry pout.

He should really know better; _of course _he would be one of the first people I'd invite. For now, though, I'll let him sweat.

Dad comes in, plastering a smile on his face.

"Okay," Dad claps once, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "It's time for school."

Jasper and Rose head toward the door while I slow my steps, giving Dad a sly grin.

"You know, a perfect gift would be a day off from school."

He raises an eyebrow, tapping a finger against his pursed lips as Mom beams next to him, no doubt already planning a day of fun.

"Hmm." Dad's head tilts from left to right, still tapping a finger against his lips.

"It's Friday. I can have a three day weekend. _And _it's the thirteenth. It's bad to go out and not watch crazy, masked camper killer movies, you know."

Dad looks humored by my attempts of persuasion while I stand by anxiously, resisting the urge to bounce on my toes and beg.

"I don't know," he says slowly, smoothing his index and thumb fingers along his mustache. "School is important and—"

He's interrupted by his phone blasting out once more.

Hastily, he removes his blaring phone from the pocket of khaki's, frowning at the screen. He mutters something akin to "be right back" but the words are too jumbled for me to be sure.

Mom steps up and wraps her arms around Rose and Jasper's shoulders, a huge smile on her face as she leads them back toward me. I can't help but notice that while her smile is bright, her eyes tell a different story. Instead of glittering with glee, there's worry hanging heavily there, and it makes my stomach roll.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you three stay home today, hmm? We'll celebrate your birthday and do whatever you want. It'll be your day."

Jasper and I cheer, high-fiving each other with giddy, goofy grins. To my surprise, even Rose looks pleased as she returns her car keys to the hook on the wall.

"You're staying?"

"Yeah. I need a break," Rose replies. "Besides, we're just going over the material we've learned so far. Nothing new … and I can study from here."

"Oh, good. It'll be so nice to have you all here with me," Mom gushes. "We'll start the marathon right after I do my morning yoga and meditation."

"You think Dad could stay too?" I question, already knowing the answer and feeling quite selfish for the request, but it would be nice to have him here for the day.

With a gentle shake of her head, Mom sighs lightly as she pulls me into a hug. "I don't think so, honey. He has a lot to do … and with me looking for work we need the income."

My shoulders drop as I acknowledge her words.

I know there's truth in what she said. Well, partly.

Technically, we don't really _need _Dad's paycheck. I know for a fact that Grandmother Beth and Grandpa George had given us money when Grandpa received his brother's inheritance when he passed away last year. So, we're pretty comfortable. I also know most of the money was put into different savings accounts for college tuitions and emergencies but it's there just in case it's needed.

Dad _does_ have a lot going on with the missing person's cases and I know he's itching to get it solved before anyone else gets hurt. That useless guilt feeling comes clawing back at me at the thought of my request.

"Well, I'm going back to sleep," Jasper announces with a yawn, stretching his arms high above his head. "Wake me when everything starts."

"Sounds like a plan," Mom states. "I'm going to see your father and then get started on my morning ritual. See you in a bit!"

We start to disperse, with Jasper and Rose heading to their respective rooms as Mom heads outside. I'm tempted to go upstairs as well, but I don't want to waste the day. Instead, I head into the living room, fully prepared to veg out in front of the television but Mom's voice calls me back.

"Bella, you missed something."

Curiously, I head to the front door, spotting a package with a dark purple bow on top of the clear cellophane. Slowly, I reach out to take it, the object shaking in my hand.

Without even removing it from its protective wrapping, I know what it is. The dark brown leather and thick, cream-colored pages are an easy giveaway.

It's the sketchbook I felt drawn to but didn't get because it was too much money.

Carefully, I peel back the bow from the cellophane, the plastic crinkling bursting into the air. For a moment, I simply stare at it, my hands moving reverently over the front of the medium-sized sketchbook.

"What is it?"

Fleetingly, I glance at my cousins standing behind me who must have come back at hearing Mom but I don't answer.

I can't.

Shock and awe race through my body, wondering who had given me this and why.

Gently, I run my hands over the buttery smoothness of the cover and the rough, jagged pages of the paper that marginally stick out of the sides.

Opening it, I flip the pages, my senses hit with a burst of leather and earth. A small white notecard flutters to the ground and Rose immediately scoops it up before it can fly away.

"That's a beautiful sketchbook," Rose murmurs, her tone awed. "Hmm … this isn't signed. I wonder who sent it."

Absently, I shake my head and shrug, my attention still on the book in my hands. I have no idea who could have sent this, especially when I didn't ask anyone for it or even mention it.

My gut tells me perhaps Alice had bought it since she seems to be _gifted, _but if that were the case, then why wasn't it in the bag with the other gifts?

"Can I see that card?"

The card is nothing spectacular; there's no fancy or silly artwork. It's a simple, white notecard with the fanciest, cleanest written script I've ever seen.

_**Bella, I hope you have a wonderful birthday. **_

I'm tempted to say it's printed since it's all so perfect, but the indentations in the paper say otherwise.

Who could have given this to me? I don't know anyone who writes this well except …

I pause, my eyes darting up and down the street and into the tree line surrounding our neighborhood. Could _Edward _be the person responsible for this gift? If his entire family knows it's my birthday, then he would have to know too, right?

Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out.

Inside, I dial Alice's number, hoping she'll answer.

The past few weeks have been iffy with her. Not only have all the Cullen's been pulled out of school to be homeschooled, but most of the time she doesn't answer the phone and instead sends a text minutes after I call. Other times, she answers right away, distraction and with a hint of frustration in her words.

I've asked her more than once if everything is okay and while she assures me she's fine, just feeling under the weather, I think there's something more to it.

I just can't put my finger on it.

That's why I'm more than surprised to hear her chipper voice ring through the speaker, wishing me a happy birthday.

"You're so disgustingly cheerful," I playfully retort before I can help myself.

"That's why we work so well as friends," she says plainly. "I'm the light to your dark."

"I see." I chuckle lightly, ignoring Jasper's curious stare as he leans against the staircase. "Are you feeling better?"

"Sort of," she hedges. "The headaches still strike me unexpectedly."

A rustling of leaves followed by a low growl meet my ears and I pause, listening for any sounds, but I hear nothing.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I lost my balance. Did you like your gifts?"

"Yes, I really love them."

Alice squeals. "I hoped you would."

"It's great and perfect for me," I murmur, holding my cell phone between my ear and shoulder so I can run my hand down the opposite sleeve. "Thank you; and will thank Emmett and your parents as well?"

There's a beat of silence before she answers. "I will."

"Thanks." I hesitate as Jasper stares intently, obviously aiming to eavesdrop.

Rolling my eyes, I head into the living room, hoping to get a little bit of privacy.

"Listen, I have a question. There was another gift on my porch—"

My words are interrupted by a curse and a loud thundering crack that has my heart shooting up into my throat.

"Alice? Are you okay?"

I'm met by silence and when I pull my phone away, I see the reason why; the phone call has been disconnected.

I stare at the device for a long moment with a frown, wondering what had happened. It can't be anything good. Finding her number again, I press send, frowning when her voicemail immediately picks up.

With a heaviness in my stomach, I find Edward's number, my finger hesitating over the green button. I know once I voluntarily call him, I'll probably never hear the end of it, but I need to know if Alice is okay.

Pressing it, I wait, listening to the sharp ring sound four times before his voicemail picks up. Hanging up, I hold the phone tightly in my hand, as if I can see what is happening through the device.

"What happened?"

Looking down, I scowl at Jasper leisurely easing his way into the room, no doubt eavesdropping in on my conversation.

"Were you listening to my conversation?"

"I just find it odd that Alice is too sick to come to school, but sounded loudly chipper just now, that's all."

Without putting a lot of force behind it, I flick his forehead with my fingers. He winces and scowls, rubbing the affected area.

"You didn't get the full story, eavesdropper."

"So what _is _the full story?" He prods.

"No idea. I wish I knew."

Jasper scoffs and shakes his head, not liking my answer. "And I thought you were a super sleuth," he murmurs. Before I can reply, he continues. "What about Alice? Is she doing better?"

"She's still struggling."

He hums, raising an eyebrow. "Is that all it is? Because the end of your phone call sounded rather abrupt."

"You should get a summer job at the café or exercise studio. You'd fit in with all of the gossips."

Not taking the bait, he simply stares, his posture relaxed and at ease as he waits for me to reply. I match his stare with one of my own, not giving in to his tactics of making me talk; and honestly, he should know better. I don't crumble that easily.

"Didn't you want to sleep more?" I question, falling back onto the couch.

"I think we should go over there."

"You can't be serious," I reply incredulously.

He meets my gaze steadily. "I'm _very _serious. I want to see if they're okay. Don't _you _want to see if they're okay?"

I wave a hand at him, shaking my head firmly. "You're just being nosey, that's all. And I'm sure Alice is fine. Maybe she just got sick … or maybe she dropped her phone. The list of reasons why the phone call cut off so abruptly is endless."

Striding in, he sits on the coffee table, effectively sitting in front of me and blocking my view of the television. I make a noise of distaste and sigh heavily, giving him a less than pleased look.

"I'm not being nosey. I'm concerned."

I snort, giving him an "are you kidding me?" look.

"It's just a little weird she sounded so chipper on the phone when supposedly, she's so sick they can't come to school and have to be homeschooled."

"Where did you hear _that_?"

"Around," he mumbles, shuffling to the right slightly.

Groaning under my breath, I slap a hand to my forehead, resisting to urge to flick his forehead again. "Stop listening to rumors. Next thing you know, you'll hear that they're aliens or some shit."

"I'm not stupid enough to believe that. "

"Sure you're not."

"Screw you," he playfully huffs, before his expression becomes more serious. "They're my friends and I have a weird feeling. I think they might be in trouble or something."

"So, you've said. This weird feeling, is it a weird feeling that something is wrong or a weird feeling about them?"

His silence is the only answer I need.

"Look, they're a little odd. So what? We all are. Alice said they have complicated backgrounds that center on loss for all of them. Maybe they're just being overprotective and overly cautious."

"Maybe," he murmurs, knowing when it comes to worrying about family, he's the best one out of us all. "But what if they need help with something?"

"What if there's _nothing_ you can do?" I counter. "Just take a breather and wait for them to contact you. If they need something, I'm sure they'll ask."

Obviously not liking my answer, he gets up and walks to the window, flinching at a beam of sunlight that makes a rare appearance through the thick clouds. I watch him, noting how his eyes widen the slightest bit as he stares off into the trees.

Straightening, I follow his line of sight, quickly sweeping my gaze over the thick trees, but finding nothing. Turning back to him, I see Jasper rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, blinking heavily and looking back, his eyebrows furrowed together.

Seconds later, he shakes his head, mumbling under his breath.

"Do you think I should try to call Alice?" he asks, snapping out of whatever daze he was in.

For a moment, I simply stare at him in astonishment before I remember how to get my brain and words working again.

"Why?"

Now looking at the floor, he nods once. "Maybe she'll answer the phone."

"You think she'll answer for you if she won't for me?"

"No," he instantly replies, his tone heated. If it weren't for the spots of color on his cheeks, I would think he's upset.

"I'm not being nosey," he insists when I raise a questioning eyebrow. "I just thought it would be helpful, you know?"

"Why? Because she's crushing on you and you thought you'd take advantage of it?"

He shoots me an angry, disgruntled look. "First of all, I would never do that. Secondly, we're friends. Or at least we're trying to be. Or _I'm _trying to be. It's hard because I know she likes me and I just feel something from her and it kind of …" he trails off, shaking his head. "Never mind. Do you want me to help or not?"

"She's not avoiding me and even if she was, I wouldn't make you do my dirty work. It'll be fine. She'll call or text me when she's able to. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some television to watch."

Flipping through the channels, I quickly locate some re-runs of _Supernatural _and settle into the couch with a contented exhale.

"Will you just think about going over there?" he asks, hesitating in the entryway.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumble.

Seconds later, he leaves and I eye my phone again, willing it to ring. Despite the television being a comfortable volume and my favorite television show playing, all I can hear are the last moments of my call with Alice.

Something happened. Something that didn't sound like it was a simple accident of someone dropping their phone.

However, knowing there's nothing I can do, I attempt to distract myself with the television, hoping my feeling is wrong.

8*8*8*8*8*8

Fifteen minutes later, I'm just starting to doze off when a bang, followed by a loud curse just beyond the front door jars me from sleep. Rushing to the window, I find my father standing on the porch, his hand hanging at his side, the knuckles red and bleeding. I wince as I notice a small stream of blood that drips down his fingers, into the dirt.

Throwing the front door open, I reach him the same time Mom comes flying from the back of the house. She holds a hand out in front of her, shaking her head once before pointing back to the door. Walking backward, I step into the threshold of the house, but remain rooted in the doorway, my hand gripping the doorframe in an unforgiving grip.

"Charlie!" Mom cradles his hand delicately between her own, wincing as she turns it over in her palm. Blood transfers from his skin to hers, smearing the red liquid over her knuckles and palms. "What did you do, honey? You need to get this checked out."

"I can't Renee. Another body has been found and another person has been taken. I need—"

He attempts to shrug her off, but she holds firm, moving with him and matching his movements with ease. She stares at him with a fierce expression, worry, and determination clear in her gaze.

"You _need _to get this checked. There's being dedicated to your job and then there's being stupid; you can't help anyone if you're ignoring your own injuries."

"Mom's right, Dad. You need to see a doctor."

He looks surprised at my appearance for a moment, nodding once when Mom whispers something in his ear. He whispers something back to her, a look of repentant relief flashing across his features.

"Is there anything I can get you, Dad? Some pain killers or something?"

Tiredly, he laughs, wincing as he looks down at his bloodied hand. "No thanks, kid. Go back inside, okay?"

I hesitate but ultimately go back in, seeing Jasper shuffling out of his room, looking extremely grumpy.

"What's going on? What's the noise about?"

"Dad hurt himself."

"Is he okay?"

I start to reply, but Dad's raised voice shouting my mother's name has me pausing. The amount of terror in his voice has me tensing and spinning around, my hand on the doorknob.

Starting to turn it, I pause, my heart thundering in my chest. Lightly, my hand shakes, the knob rattling with the force of it.

"What's going on? Open the door."

I ignore him and tear my hand away, instead opting to listen to my frozen body and peer out of the peephole instead. A noise of disgust flows through my lips at my limited field of view, ignoring Jasper's incessant questioning from behind me.

My parents stand a few feet in front of the door, slowly shuffling in my direction, my father standing protectively in front of my mother.

Vaguely, I can hear another voice that's low and smooth, with a hint of an accent. Through a tight throat, I swallow, trying to recall where I had heard the voice the before, but my attention is drawn to the slow movement just a few feet away.

My father fumbles for something in his pocket, blindly and clumsily shoving it into my mother's hand. It takes me a second to realize it's his phone.

The unknown party laughs, his voice becoming clearer.

"—get here in time?"

Stepping back slightly, I wrack my brain, trying to recall where I heard that voice before. Flashes of the guy—_Laurent—_from the alley pop up, but is it really him? Without being able to see, there's no way to tell for sure.

"What is going on out there?" Jasper questions loudly, from the living room. "Who's out there? Who are they talking to?"

Darting into the next room, I attempt to peer out of the window, but the view isn't any better from here.

"What did you see?"

He shrugs. "Nothing for sure, but they're obviously looking at someone out there. Who—"

A loud thump against the door has me jumping, and then there's nothing but silence. The only sound that can be heard is my labored breathing.

Jasper gives me a curious look and goes for the door just as the loud roar of my father's car erupts from the driveway, the motor revving like a growling bear.

Jasper and I spill out of the front door, seeing a large portion of the yard disturbed, with chunks of grass and mud scattered about.

Upon first glance, it looks as if a rough game of football was played out here. If I hadn't heard the disturbance moments earlier, I would have believed that perhaps we were hit by a meteor.

Deep indentations in the mud lead toward Dad's car, where he's twisted in the front seat, peering at something or someone in the back. When he turns around, I gasp at his pale complexion and the wild look in his eye.

His gaze sweeps right over us unseeingly as his bloodied hands grip the steering wheel, frantically yanking the car into reverse.

Suddenly, he comes to screeching halt as a four-door, dark blue Mercedes comes speeding up behind him, blocking his path.

Carlisle immediately jumps out of the driver's seat, closely followed by the rest of the Cullens, including Alice. Her face is pinched in worry and pain, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Catching my eye, she gives a tight smile, her lips pressed together so tightly I can barely see them. She looks away before I can smile back, which is a good thing, considering it wasn't even in a single thought to smile or wave back at her.

Beside her, Edward stands rigid and poised to strike, his hands curling into fists and straightening, only to have the cycle repeat. Like an animal sensing a predator, he wildly looks around the area, glaring off into the trees as if they offended him personally.

"What the hell? What are they doing here?" Jasper mumbles to himself, his pale pallor standing out against the dark clothes he's wearing.

Dad leaps from his car, racing to Carlisle, one hand gripping his arm while the other flails about, pointing frantically to the cruiser. His words come out in a jumbled string of antagonized sounds, laced with desperation and hurt.

Seeing my father so broken and lost has me shaking, blindly reaching for anything stable. Luckily, Jasper takes a hold of me, crushing me to his side as we watch the scene unfold before us.

Esme quickly walks past Dad, giving him a comforting smile before ducking into the back seat, leaving her family outside in a loose semi-circle around the car, their postures stiff and coiled.

Carlisle calmly talks to Dad, placing his hands on Dad's flailing arm. Despite the obviously tense and frantic moment, Carlisle remains composed and collected. Dad slowly quiets, listening to Carlisle's words with a somber expression before he slumps forward, his face landing on Carlisle's shoulder as he loudly sobs, gripping the other man's shirt tightly.

His body shakes with the force of his cries, but Carlisle doesn't bat an eye. He merely hugs him, continuing to speak quietly.

My own eyes start to burn at his distress, knowing whatever happened out here wasn't good. I want to go to him, to see what's going on and offer him comfort, but something is telling me I need to remain where I am for the time being.

A quick look at Jasper tells me he feels the same indecision, if the pained look on his face is any indication.

Catching my look, Jasper hugs me so tightly it's hard to breathe, but I don't complain. I need something to ground me.

Looking back at the scene unfolding a few feet away, I notice every so often Dad nods at whatever Carlisle is telling him before looking at us on the porch.

Stepping back, Dad takes a moment, seemingly standing there and breathing deeply before heading in our direction.

As soon as he turns, Carlisle hops into the backseat, replacing Esme.

Dad walks toward us with hurried steps, his face grim and splotchy and streaked with tears. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen red.

"Go back inside, now." His voice is rough and cracks in multiple places.

"Dad, what's going on? Where's Mom?"

A pained expression crosses his face. His eyes become glassy and he clears his throat, looking back at the car briefly before returning his gaze to us.

"She hurt herself. We need to get her checked out," he replies, clearing his throat several times as he tries to sound normal.

"We heard someone else out here," Jasper says, concern and suspicion warring on his face.

Dad scrubs a hand over his face, sighing roughly and a little impatiently. He continuously looks back at the car, bumping his casted hand against his hip as he stares. "Yeah, there was a lost hiker that startled her when he came out of the woods. Look, I need to go, okay? Stay inside and lock the doors. Do _not _open them for anyone, got it? I'll call you once I know something."

Dumbly, we both nod and remain where we are, watching as Dad jumps in the car, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he waits for Carlisle and Esme to pull out. Once they do, he peels out of the driveway, his tires smoking against the asphalt, spraying tiny rocks and pebbles into the air. They fall onto the concrete in little _pings, _the sound reminiscent of hail against glass.

All at once, emotions war through me; I want to cry for the distress my father was in. I want to scream for him to come back, to be with my mother and comfort her. I want to tell her I love her, and feel one of her overly tight hugs.

While the weather is warm, I feel cold, and slowly wrap my arms around my midsection, feeling my stomach roll with the possibilities of what could have happened to her and when … or _if_ I'll ever see her again.

Forcing the thought away, I look for any distraction, finding it a mere, ten feet away. It's there I see the Cullens, standing in a loose semi-circle, still, stiff, and tense.

"What are you doing here?" Jasper asks, his tone accusing and suspicious.

"We were picking up Alice from her doctor's appointment when the Chief called," Edward answers easily. "We came right over."

Still suspicious, Jasper hums, tapping a finger against the top of his thigh.

"We over-reacted, I'm afraid," Alice offers weakly, her smile just as strong as her words. "We assumed the worst when we heard the call. We're sorry if we frightened you."

Realizing that Jasper isn't going to reply, I take it upon myself to answer for him.

"It's fine." My voice cracks as I speak, and immediately, worried eyes fall on me, much to my frustration. Clearing my throat, I try again, hoping I sound stronger and more secure. "Do you need to call a cab? Or you can borrow Rose's car to get home."

"Can we hang out here?" Alice inquires, a hopeful note in her voice. "It'll be nice to spend time with you on your birthday."

Behind us, footsteps on the stairs have us turning, seeing Rose coming down, looking completely at ease.

"Okay, are we doing —" she hesitates, seeing our guests. The relaxed expression she had fades as her eyes narrow in on the Cullens, or more specifically, Emmett. "What are _you _doing here?"

Turning toward me and Jasper, she tilts her head in their direction, her cheeks, and neck flushing red. "What are they doing here? Where is Aunt Renee?"

Jasper and I exchanging looks is all it takes for concern and worry to blossom on her features. She pales, swallowing thickly, her fingers twisting the bottom of her oversized shirt. When she speaks, her voice is small and childlike.

"What happened?"

* * *

**So ... yeah. That happened. And there are more surprises on the way!  
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**I'll try to update as soon as I can, so you don't have to wait long for the next chapter. :) **


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey! I hope everyone is doing well and being safe these days.  
**

**Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 helped me with this chapter. They're the best! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**I'll admit, I'm nervous about this chapter so ... I guess I'll let you all jump in. **

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

The television blares with the screams of innocent campers, the screen flashing with terrified faces, masked killers, and blood.

Ordinarily, I would be glued to the screen, watching the movie I've seen at least a hundred times before, but right now, it can't keep my attention. My gaze constantly drifts to the window, to my phone, to the front door, repeating in a never-ending cycle of nerves and anxiety.

I'm not sure how much longer I can take this. Sitting here and waiting for the phone to ring again makes me antsy and uneasy; my half-chewed fingernails can attest to this.

On the third pass of my anxious watching cycle, I catch Edward in the kitchen, sitting at my usual spot at the table. He sits with his body leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he quietly converses with Emmett, who slowly paces the kitchen.

Frustration paints Edward's face as he speaks with his brother, shaking his head every so often at whatever Emmett says. In response to every negative retort he gets, Emmett huffs, his gentle face storming over in a fierce glare as his pace quickens.

I watch them for a long moment, wondering what the hell they're talking about so adamantly.

It almost looks as if Edward is annoyed with being here, but honestly, no one is making him stay.

Since my birthday, four days ago, Edward and his siblings have been here from a little after sunrise to sundown.

Why I'm not entirely sure, but I have my theories.

To be honest, it _has_ been a little bit of a comfort to have them here. At least it doesn't feel like Rose, Jasper, and I are alone, waiting for our world to crumble. Plus, for the most part, they have been a good distraction.

Not that I would tell Edward that.

His ego is big enough.

Rose has fluctuated between worried pacing and silent crying. Each time she falls into one of these spells, Emmett is there, sweeping her away with a gentle hand and soft words. They've disappeared together for hours at a time, and it doesn't escape my notice that when they return, Rose is a lot calmer and more centered.

Jasper, on the other hand, has been a little tougher to sidetrack.

Most of the time, he's stuck in his own head, blankly staring off into space with anguish rolling off him in paralyzing waves. In those times, Rose and I find ourselves sitting next to him, trying to hold ourselves together.

Other times, Jasper's watching our guests with an investigative frown that would make my father proud.

When Edward, Alice, and Emmett first stayed with us the day of Mom's injury, he didn't speak to them at all; instead, cast suspicious looks toward all three. He still hasn't let up on his guarded glances and at times, appears to be studying everyone with a frustrated, analytical eye.

Yesterday, things seemed to change; after disappearing outside with Emmett and Edward for the better part of an hour, they came back inside looking jovial, though I can still sense Jasper's tentative doubts toward them.

Alice has tried her best to distract me while she's visited, bringing her favorite horror movies, books, and television shows, as well as more photo albums for me to look through. But it's obvious things still aren't well with her. She's been staring off into space more often than not, leaving burning questions on my lips about my hunches regarding her _headaches. _

I haven't asked her yet, though I'm dying to. I feel a conversation like that needs to be done in private, so for now, I'll wait.

Movement from the kitchen interrupts my pensive staring. Edward straightens in the chair, and in an effort not to be caught, I abruptly look away, my gaze landing on the cheerful and brightly colored children's clock out in the hall; the very same one I had hung in my room when I was eight.

When I had redecorated, the clock disappeared from my box of donations and ended up on the wall where it's been since, a blaring reminder of how different I was ten years ago. I had begged my mom to get rid of it, but she wouldn't budge.

"It makes me happy," she had told me, her grin as bright as the hands on the clock's face.

I couldn't find it in me to complain about it, so I kept quiet, keeping my grievances about the childish item to myself.

Now, I'm tempted to take a hammer to it until it's nothing but chunks of plastic and metal.

I glare in its direction as I hear the slow, steady rhythm of its hands moving, only audible when there's a suspenseful lull in the movie.

My eye twitches as it ticks again, the sound a never-ending reminder of how much time has passed without talking to Dad. He's texted, saying Mom would be okay, but other than that, there's been nothing. When we've tried to call him, his phone goes straight to voicemail.

However, Dr. C or Esme call right back on their phones, calmingly reassuring us that everything is okay.

I'm not too sure I believe it; it's been too long, and too much time has passed.

It's been four days.

… Four days since Mom had gotten hurt.

… Four days since I had seen Dad sob in Carlisle's arms.

… Four days since he had sped out of the driveway, leaving dark tire marks against the pavement.

Four long days.

Each new day that passes, our worry and apprehension increase, despite the company.

Jasper sits next to me stoically, his unblinking gaze glued on the screen. He's not really paying attention either; he's lost in his thoughts, hopefully not focusing on the bad side of things, like I find myself doing at times.

I can only hope that like me, he diverts his negative attention and focuses on the positive.

Mom _will _be okay. She has to be.

Feeling a tingle in my throat, I swallow thickly and cough, hoping to dispel the feeling there. It doesn't work; instead, it gets worse, and my eyes start to burn with the threat of oncoming tears.

Suppressing a groan, I dig the palms of my hands into my eye sockets, hoping to scrub the feeling away.

On my other side is Alice, who has constantly been fidgeting since she sat next to me. It's been somewhat frustrating when she won't be still, but right now, it's welcome.

Her hands twist together, her fingers vigorously scratching her wrists before she lightly sighs, bringing them up to massage her temples. For a brief moment, there's stillness, but then her leg begins to bounce as she chews on her thumbnail, an unfocused look in her eye.

When she turns to look at me, her smile, like her face, is tense and troubled. She hasn't tried to speak, but then again, I haven't tried to say anything.

It's not for lack of trying; I just don't know what to say anymore.

Rose sits in Dad's chair; her cell phone clutched in her hand. Every so often, she'll run a hand through her hair, and tap her foot against the floor, only to stop and tuck her leg underneath her. After she checks her phone, her fingers flying over the screen with her lip tucked between her teeth, the process starts all over again.

After Jasper and I had relayed what had happened, Rose was halfway out the door before we could pull her back. Emmett had reached her first, his hand encircling hers as he softly asked her to come back inside. At the angry tirade that poured from her lips, he stepped back, begrudgingly allowing Jasper and me to take his place.

She vehemently argued with us, telling us we needed to go with Mom. Over and over, she said this, pleading with us to just go, to follow after her so we could be with her and help her heal. Her voice cracked on the last few words she uttered before she broke down, covering her face with her hands as she sobbed, sinking to the floor.

I cried along with her, tears pouring from me like molten lava, burning a path down my cheeks. I wanted nothing more than to collapse down with her, to share my grief and worry with someone who understood, but it wasn't the right time.

Breaking down wouldn't help her.

We immediately swarmed her, guiding her back inside and onto the couch where she clutched both of us with such a tight grip her fingernail impressions still remain bruised into my skin.

Once she calmed a little, Jasper spoke to her, whispering reassurances while I sat by quietly, staring at the floor.

After several minutes, Rose pulled me into a hug, telling me everything would be okay. Jasper moved to my other side, whispering his own reassurances and positive words.

"Everything will be fine. We just have to believe it," he had said. "Keep believing it, no matter what."

I've repeated their words in my head over and over, trying to hold on to that belief, but the more time that passes, the harder it is.

"Stop," Rose says, looking up from her phone. "She'll be fine. She has to be."

Wordlessly, I nod and rise, feeling her eyes on me as I stagger into the empty kitchen. I don't know where Edward and Emmett have gone, but at the moment, I don't care. I'm just glad it's empty as I stumble to the kitchen sink, the air leaving my lungs in a rush as my stomach makes contact with the edge.

Sliding my hands out, I rest my palms on the cool faux marble, feeling the chill seep into my palms. For some odd reason, it comforts me, giving me a strange sense of peace, I haven't gotten since before everything went to shit.

Wanting more, I lean down and lay my face against the steel divider of the double sink, listening to my rhythmic breathing bounce off the walls of the sink.

Unseeingly, I reach for a glass that's drying in the rack to my right and flip on the cold water, only rising when I feel the water begin to spray my face.

Behind me, I hear the shuffling footsteps of Rose.

"You okay?" Rose asks, placing a hand on my back.

I do a combination nod and shrug, swishing the water around in my mouth before swallowing.

She sighs, squeezing my shoulder once. "She'll be okay."

"Yeah? Have you heard anything?"

"Not yet."

"Well, that makes me feel better."

Unwillingly, my words come out bitter and sarcastic, because at the moment, there's no way we can know if Mom will be okay until we hear something ... anything. Since that has yet to happen, I'm not sure if she'll be okay or not.

Deep down, I feel like she will be, but can I trust that feeling? My mind keeps reminding me of the missing people, of the lifeless bodies currently being found seemingly every other week and I can't help but wonder if Mom will be one of them.

No, stop. Like Rose said: she'll be okay. She has to be.

Maybe if I repeat this enough, I can beat out all the negative thoughts that enter my head.

"Listen to me," she says firmly. "She will. I _know _it, and I _feel _it. Jasper does too, you _know _he does, he's just worried. It's natural for him."

Knowing the truth in this, I smile, giving her a quick hug in thanks.

She smiles in return, looking around with a critical eye. "Where's Emmett? Wasn't he in here with Edward?"

"No idea," I murmur. "You know, I find it funny you're only asking about Emmett."

Lightly, she pushes my shoulder and tries to look upset, but the apples of her cheeks have a slight pinkish hue. It also doesn't escape my notice that her eyes have dropped to the floor, and the corner of her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth.

Seeing my amused expression, she tries to look indifferent but miserably fails.

"I _know _where Edward is; he went out front to give Alice and Jasper some privacy to talk."

My eyebrows raise into my hairline, and I can't help but wonder what they're talking about. I want to eavesdrop so badly, but at the same time, I know it's not right of me.

"Anyway, I'm going to go to the bathroom and then we'll watch more movies, okay? Aunt Renee wouldn't want us to sulk. She'd want us to have fun and _keep positive thoughts. _So let's do that."

Knowing she's right, I nod.

"Good. Be right back."

Nodding, I go about setting out some snacks. They probably won't get eaten, considering we're all too worried to eat, but at least the option is there if we want it.

In the silence of the house, Alice and Jasper's conversation becomes clearer, and while I try not to listen in, it's difficult when it's the only thing you can hear.

"I have a lot to figure out, Alice," Jasper says, his voice low and full of regret. "It's just … you're so _intense. _Since we've met, you've looked at me as if you've known me for years. How is that possible? And then you look at me like—"

"Like what?" Alice questions when there's a hefty pause in the conversation.

"Like you … like you love me."

There's another heavy silence, and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for her response.

"I do feel something for you, Jasper. I won't lie. I … feel very strongly for you, but you don't have to return these feelings. You don't even have to like me."

"I do like you," he blurts out.

I don't have to look at him to know he's bright red, majorly embarrassed from what he just revealed.

"Okay, then just start with that. Let's start as friends and see where it goes, okay? If there's nothing more between us than that, then … then it'll be okay. If there is, then that'll be great too. I won't push you for anything you're not ready for. Friendship is fine with me."

"That's kind of what my Uncle Charlie said. Sort of, anyway."

"He's a smart man."

"Yeah, he is," he trails off. "Okay. We'll start … slow."

The shuffling of clothes alerts me to the fact that Jasper is moving, and I make quick work of pulling out my phone to look as if I'm distracted. Luckily, Jasper is so lost inside his own head that he walks straight past me and into his room.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I wait a minute before heading into the living room.

Alice is still sitting on the couch, her head tilted back, and eyes closed. I would believe she's sleeping if it weren't for the constant tapping of her fingers against the cell phone in her hand and her lips silently mouthing words I can't understand.

"Is that your phone?"

Startled, she jumps. Seeing only me, she melts slightly into the couch cushion, gripping the phone in her hand tighter.

"Yeah, it's new. I accidentally dropped my other one."

I nod, thinking back to our phone call a few days ago, wondering what was happening where she had dropped her phone. It had honestly sounded like she was in some sort of scuffle, but I didn't know a tactful way of asking without seeming extremely nosey.

"What happened?"

Apprehensively, she smiles and jerks a shoulder upward. "I fell."

A quiet buzz surges through the silence of the now quiet living room, the DVD repeating the low, ominous tones of the music playing on the loading screen.

Immediately, Alice fumbles with her phone, her fingers flying over the screen. Rising from the couch, she goes out to the front porch, throwing an, "I'll be back in a minute" over her shoulder.

Rocking on my heels with my hands stuffed in my pockets and my eyebrows up near my hairline, I whistle lowly.

"All righty then."

Needing some air, I head toward the back door, stepping out onto the porch.

Taking a breath, I feel a slight jolt in my lungs at the crisp, September air. It would almost be pleasant out here if it weren't for the heavy, humid air, still hanging from summer. The only thing that's keeping me out here, besides wanting to avoid the screaming inside, is the cool breeze gently billowing down from the north and the smell of earth and leaves.

The gentle click of the door has me turning around, seeing Edward slowly striding toward me. He moves to the railing across from me, leaning his hip against the banister. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks out over the yard before straying back to me.

"Are you gonna stay out here all afternoon?"

"Yeah. I do this every fourth afternoon; go out into the backyard and run around naked. It's a freeing exercise that gets me connected to nature. You're lucky, I was just about to disrobe."

I smirk as he sputters, his eyes and mouth wide.

"You're such a guy. Jeez," I mutter, chuckling at his reaction. "Why? What's it to ya?"

I eye him skeptically, wondering why he's out here. Is he concerned about me … worried? Or does he simply not trust me to be by myself?

During the time he's been here, he hasn't gone out of his way to seek me out and talk to me, though he has given me reassuring glances and smiles.

"No reason," he replies, sitting on the banister, turning his face upward toward the sky as a gust of wind forcefully blows by. "I like to spend time outside too. It's very peaceful and refreshing for me."

I hum, crossing my arms over my chest and eying him with interest. "So this is what you do now that you're homeschooled? You stay outside all of the time?"

He chuckles lowly, his eyes twinkling with humor. "I see gossip still flows around here."

"You're the new, mysterious family. Expect the spotlight on you for quite a bit."

"Noted; and to answer your question, I do occasionally spend most of my time outdoors. Thankfully, I'm advanced in my schoolwork, so I can take a few hours out of the day to go for a hike."

I snort a laugh. "Wow. I thought I was the only modest one in town."

His lips twitch as he fights a smile. "Now, you know."

There's a long stretch of silence, but it's not uncomfortable or tense. In fact, it's very relaxed and almost soothing. With the cool wind gently blowing by, the heavy cloud cover, and the thick scent of rain in the air, I could almost be relaxed.

Since I'm standing, my feet and legs immediately begin screaming at me minutes after my decision. Edward's head slowly turns toward me, watching as I subtly try to shift into a more comfortable position.

Snorting, he pushes away from the banister, jerking his head forward. "Come on. If you want to spend more time outside, I know a place."

I debate for a moment before agreeing. "Let's go. Wait, this is near my house?" I ask suspiciously.

"Like I said, I hike. I've been through this area before."

"I see. Is this place somewhere you can get rid of my body?" I sarcastically quip.

"Please," he retorts, offended. "In your own backyard? With your cousins and my siblings just inside? There are limitless miles of woods around this town with no one nearby. If I did something stupid like that, I'd deserve to get caught."

Unable to help myself, I snicker. He's right; it would be rather idiotic of him to do such a thing.

Slowly following as he leads me into the trees surrounding the rear of my house, Daisy, the dog next door, gives a combination of a huffing bark and growl, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. Looking over my shoulder, I see her standing on the porch, her body tense and straight, her ears pinned back on her head. Seeing me looking, her tail wags briefly but stops as she again barks.

"She doesn't like you," I remark, catching up with Edward as he waits at the tree line.

His eyes narrow briefly at the dog before he sighs and shrugs. "I'm not the best with animals anymore."

"Anymore?" I question, noting the hint of melancholy in his words.

Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, the expression on his face a mixture of someone in deep pain, who is extremely pissed off at the world. "Yeah. I used to—" he trails off, his face pinching before he shakes his head. "Never mind. It's not important anymore."

A million questions burn on the tip of my tongue, but I keep them back—for now.

Eight minutes later, a slow, steady gurgling of water can be heard, the sound bouncing off the trees. An additional minute passes, and Edward stops, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans as we come to a stop near the small stream.

Lush green grass and small yellow and white flowers are spread out in a sea of green, holding two large rocks facing the small brook running through the trees. Amazed and awed, I slowly walk toward the edge of the bank, following the steady rush of water as it glides and crashes over the rocks.

I don't know how I never found this before. Countless times I've walked through the woods, observing nature and the wildlife that inhabit it. Even the small lake that this stream flows into isn't as beautiful as this tiny plot of flowing water. Disappointment and gratitude war within me as I absorb both the sound and the fresh scent of the water.

I feel foolish I hadn't found this place before, considering it's practically in my own backyard, but I'm thankful I now know it's here.

My fingers itch to draw, to imprint this area on paper forever, but with my supplies still tucked away at home, I'll have to settle for being in the present moment.

Edward takes the rock to the right, his fingers interlaced and hanging over his knees as he rests his forearms on his thighs, his eyes studiously on the water.

Taking the other rock, I try to sit as comfortably as I can, but with the hard surface and my bony ass, _comfortable _doesn't seem to be achievable.

Sighing heavily, I slide down to the ground, using the rock as a backrest instead.

Content, I watch the water as it glides over the rocks, bubbling and gurgling as it travels downstream, washing away leaves, dirt, and the occasional unfortunate lizard that slithers up to catch a drink.

"It's nice here," I say after a long moment. "I can't believe I've never found it."

Edward hums, sliding down to me, his fingers plucking at the blades of grass, precariously close to my own hand. "You probably didn't know where to look. After all, the woods are vast."

Nodding in agreement, I angle my body toward the right slightly as Edward continues to speak.

"It is soothing. Although, there's another place …" he pauses, swallowing thickly. Indecision flashes across his face and before I can say anything, he continues. "There's another place that's even better a little further away from here. It's just past the small lake, give or take half a mile. It's not my favorite place, but it's in my top three in the world."

"Your top three in the _world_? Where are the others?"

He shrugs, still plucking grass. "The other places I've lived."

"Must have been a lot of places," I mumble.

"It is." His words are final, offering no other information.

"So, you've come here a lot?"

Nervously, he glances up but quickly averts his eyes, furiously plucking at the earth, his hand moving closer to mine with each minute. "A couple of times."

"Hmm. Interesting," I muse, recalling the times I've thought I've suspected he's been around. Now, I can't help but wonder if I _did _see him out here. From the way he's landscaping the area near my hand, I'd say I'm correct in my assumption.

"A little tip: don't slink around a person's house, mmkay? It's creepy," I tease causally.

His posture relaxes, and his lips quirk into a grin. "I've heard that somewhere before."

"Really? That person sounds _so _smart."

"Eh, they have their moments."

Playfully, I glare, but I can't keep the expression locked on my face for some reason. I don't know whether it's the serene atmosphere or the fact that we're getting along, but I find myself grinning.

As soon as the thought registers, my smile falls.

I shouldn't be smiling. Not while my mother is somewhere hurting.

"She'll be okay, you know. Your Mom," Edward quietly says, his index finger brushing gently over the back of my hand in a soothing, sweeping motion.

My gut reaction is to deny his claim. There's no way he can know for sure. Although, if Alice is as gifted as I think she is, then I suppose he _would _know, at least in some way. "Yeah? Do you have future insight or something?"

"Or something."

His words are vague and insignificant, but they bring me tremendous relief. Edward may be a lot of things, but I know … I _feel _like he wouldn't lie about something like this.

"Thanks."

He merely nods, his face turned toward the bubbling water, but his fingers continue sweeping across my hand. I shiver slightly at the feeling but don't pull away just yet.

A silence lapses around us, and I sigh in contentment, leaning my head against the rock and closing my eyes.

"I never said this, but Happy Birthday."

Stretching out my arms and legs, I groan at the delicious pull of my muscles before resuming my previous position. "Thanks."

His words bring memories from the morning of my birthday into my mind, where I found the mysterious sketchbook. Curiosity bubbles within me again, wondering who could have given me such an expensive item. No one I know can afford to casually spend nearly fifty dollars on a sketchbook.

Well, no one, I would _expect _to give me something.

Fishing the card from my pocket, I study the elegant script, running my fingers over the paper. I've seen this handwriting before, and I know exactly _where _I had seen it, too.

"Did you give me anything for my birthday?"

He looks at me from the side, a teasing smirk on his lips. "Fishing for gifts? I didn't figure you for the type."

"Hell, yes. Who doesn't want gifts for their birthday?"

"I don't."

I wave away his words. "Yeah, that's because you have that never-ending angst going on. _Normal _people want gifts. On some level, at least."

"Uh-huh."

It doesn't escape my attention that he hasn't answered me, so I keep my gaze on him, letting him know I'm not letting this go.

Innocently, he shrugs and stretches his legs out next to mine, gazing out over the water with a peaceful expression. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I would believe him, except he's again back to his landscaping.

"Uh-huh. You know, you're the only guy I know who has pretty handwriting, so," I trail off, biting the inside of my lip as he turns slowly toward me, eyes wide and affronted.

"Excuse me? I do not have pretty handwriting," he spits.

Unfolding the card from my palm, I wave it in his face before examining it myself.

"Let's see, no shakiness, perfect prose, and the style looks typed … I'll admit, I thought it _was _typed until I felt the indentations in the paper."

He remains silent, glaring at the small white card in my hand as if he wishes he could set it on fire, so I take that as my cue to continue.

"You forget, I've seen your handwriting, and it matches this. _Perfectly._"

Cursing lightly, he allows his chin to drop to his chest for the slightest second before raising his head. "Okay, so I did. Most people say _thank you, _you know."

"Most people _sign _their card."

"Yeah, well, most people don't think the recipient will examine it so thoroughly."

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth, shaking my head in mock disappointment. "You should have known better; my Dad is a cop."

A single chuckle escapes him. "I'll remember that."

"So, why did you get it for me?"

There's nothing but silence as we sit there, listening to soothing sounds of nature. Just when I think he's ignoring me, he speaks. "You needed a quality book."

"How did you even know I draw?"

Angling his body toward me, he lifts his knee closer to his chest to rest his arm on it, his hand running through his hair. "I'm observant. You doodle during class, and I've seen some of them. They're good, so I thought you'd like a sketchbook. You're looking into this too much."

I don't ever recall doodling in class. Sure, I've spaced out, because sometimes I can't help myself, but I don't ever recall drawing on anything of mine.

"I don't draw during class."

"I didn't say they were good," he replies with a teasing smirk.

Laughing without humor, I flip him off. "For the record, I'm _not _looking into this too much. If the situation were reversed, you would be suspicious as hell if I started acting all nicey-nice and giving you gifts after being a complete bitch to you for months on end."

"True. There's no telling what someone strange will do."

I give him a pointed look. "Exactly."

He chuckles, the sound rich and deep. "There wasn't any ulterior motive. I thought you'd like it, so I got it. Apparently, I was right about you wanting gifts for your birthday."

"I do and I _love _the sketchbook. It was just odd, having it sit on my porch all alone."

"I thought you liked odd things?"

I shrug my shoulder. "Within reason, I suppose. I like scary stuff as much as the next horror enthusiast but I don't want to be murdered or kidnapped."

"Got it."

Suppressing a laugh, I return my attention back to the stream, but I can't leave it there. We may not get along all the time, but giving me that sketchbook was completely unexpected and entirely appreciated.

"Hey, Edward?" I ask, gently nudging him with my shoulder.

Looking up, he smiles, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for the sketchbook."

"You're welcome … and you know what keeping that notecard means?" he suggestively asks with a grin as he gently pokes my arm.

"Yeah. Evidence in your trial for stalking me."

Throwing his back, he laughs, the sound carrying through the trees and scaring the birds resting overhead. They squawk in annoyance, their wings flapping furiously as they soar into the air.

"Thanks for showing me this place. I'll have to come back sometime."

Absently, he nods. "It's a good place for reflection."

I hum, seeing his point, though I must wonder what he reflects about, and while I'm completely positive he won't share anything with me, I have to ask.

"What do you reflect about?"

He hesitates, looking at me from the corner of his eye before tentatively replying, carefully choosing his words. "I haven't always done … good things. I haven't been the best son to my parents; my biological and adoptive parents."

Knowing this has to be sensitive ground, I tread lightly. "What happened to your biological parents?"

"They got sick and succumbed to their illness."

"I'm sorry," I murmur, my hand twitching to reach out and cover his in support. Impulsively, I quickly reach out and grasp his, squeezing once before pulling back. To my surprise, he grips my hand, his thumb gently sweeping over the skin on the inside of my wrist.

I sit back, mesmerized, watching the purposeful movement of his fingers against my skin. The pleasurable tingle of the delicate brushing of his fingers causes me to shiver. His gaze lifts to mine as I do so, but he doesn't let go, nor does he look away.

"It was a long time ago."

"Still," I tell him, not knowing what else to say.

"Thanks."

We sit in silence for a long moment while I think over his words, trying to distract myself from his hypnotic touch.

I can't really speak for his biological parents, but I can speak for his adoptive ones. I've seen the way Carlisle and Esme look at him; there's so much love in their gazes, there's no way they're not proud of him, despite what wrongdoings he may have done.

"You're wrong, you know. About Carlisle and Esme. You're a good son; they wouldn't love you if you weren't."

He scoffs, yanking blades of grass from the ground. "You don't know what you're talking about … you don't know what horrible things I've done … I've … I've hurt people. I moved away from them, not wanting to be around them for the things I've done. I know the hurt I've caused."

"You're right, I don't know exactly what you've done, but I know they love you. I can see it when they look at you. Sure, you've screwed up and done things they might not have agreed with, but they still love you. They wouldn't look concerned when you unexpectedly leave or look at you with such love and relief when you return."

His mouth opens as if he's going to reply, but he snaps it closed just as quickly as he contemplatively stares off into the water.

I leave him be, knowing he's processing what I've said.

"You could be right," he mumbles.

"I have my moments. It's nice of you to finally notice … self-centered jerk," I tease finally.

He laughs, and I take that as a sign the heavy moment is over.

"Thank you, Bella. I don't believe it completely, but thank you."

"You should believe it. It's the truth."

Sighing heavily, he stares into my eyes for a long moment, slowly moving toward me. The closer he gets, the more my heartbeat thunders in my ears.

Before I know it, his lips are pressed against mine and he's sucking on my bottom lip, his tongue gently caressing mine. For the next few moments, we remain like this, with our lips moving quickly against one another, exchanging gasping breaths.

Our hands our unforgiving as he pulls me closer, and I tug on his hair, lost in the dizzying sensations swimming through me. It's only when I'm light-headed that I pull back and crab-walk backward toward my own rock, pressing my back tightly against the rough surface.

Against his own rock, Edward mirrors my position exactly. One hand digs into the earth while the other rubs at his forehead, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

Not knowing what the hell happened, I decide on the best course of action.

Deflection.

"How did you leave home? Where did you go?"

Jerking back, he stares at me with wide eyes, his mouth falling open before he replies, his words coming out slowly and gaining strength the longer he speaks. "I'm eighteen. I can leave whenever I'd like … and as for where I went, I have my own place."

I gape at his admission, feeling awed by his amount of freedom. While I'm slightly envious, I don't want to leave my family; not yet and especially not now.

In the distance, the low rumble of thunder can be heard, roaring through the sky. Lost in the conversation and surroundings, I failed to notice that the thick, off-white clouds have now been replaced with dark, foreboding storm clouds, threatening to unleash at any moment.

"We should probably get back."

It almost sounds as if he's disappointed, but the look on his face doesn't match the tone of his words.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Jumping up, he brushes the dirt off his jeans and holds a hand out to me. Instead of taking it, I get up myself and stumble lightly, catching myself on the rock behind me.

Edward looks too amused at my blunder, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. "That could have been avoided if you had taken my help … but no, you _had _to be stubborn. You should work on that."

"Let me ask you something, smooth operator. Does your mouth have a funny taste in it from sticking your foot in it all the time?" I ask sweetly.

"You could always tell me. After all, you've kissed me … quite enthusiastically, I might add."

"Ugh, don't remind me," I snarl, striding past him in the direction we came.

Unconsciously, I bring my fingers up to my lips, willing away the tingle residing there.

The snap of twigs and leaves underneath my feet drown out all other sounds, and unfortunately, I don't notice him walking up next to me until it's too late.

Smugly, he smiles, his eyes zeroed in on my fingers. Jerking my hand away, I narrow my eyes, silently daring him to say one word. Holding his hands up in surrender, he waves an arm forward, and I take the chance to stomp the rest of the way, completely frustrated at how easily he gets under my skin.

If only I can figure _why, _then maybe I can figure out a way to block him.

At the edge of my backyard, Edward softly calls my name, and for split second, I debate about whether or not I should keep going and just pretend I didn't hear him. Knowing that's the immature thing to do, I stop, but I don't turn around.

"What?"

My skin erupts in gooseflesh, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as he walks up behind me and leans down to whisper in my ear.

"I like it too."

The breath catches in my throat, and for some strange reason, I feel taken off guard. Why, I don't know, but I never expected him to admit such a thing, especially to me.

Realizing I'm not with him, he turns, that smug grin still on his face.

"What's wrong?" he innocently asks. "Are you stunned?"

Snapped out of my stupor, I square my shoulders and walk as confidently toward him as I can.

"No," I reply as easily as I can manage. "I was just basking in being right … _again._"

Rolling his eyes toward the sky, his head falls back on his shoulders as he sighs heavily, shaking his head once. For a moment, I think his exasperation is real, but the short snort that leaves him tells me otherwise.

Underneath my feet, the floorboards creak and shift as he jogs up, a teasing smirk on his lips as he starts to speak, but he stops as the familiar roar of an engine fills the air.

Freezing in place and not daring to breathe, I strain my ears waiting for the sound of car doors closing.

Seconds later, I hear two car doors slam, and I grin widely, my cheeks protesting from the action. A short time later, the excited squeals and hollers of Rose and Jasper inside boost my enthusiasm.

Grabbing onto Edward's arm, I jump up and down a few times, my free arm slapping his shoulder in a series of quick bursts.

He laughs, his hand pressing against my lower back to steady me as I leap into the air like a sugared-up kangaroo.

It's only when I'm out of breath that I stop, leaning against the house with Edward's hand trapped between my back and the rough exterior of the house. Surprisingly, he makes no move to remove it and, instead, moves with me, reaching for the door before I can.

With a flourish, he opens the door, and we come face to face with a bright-eyed, excited Rose, her skin pink and flushed.

"Bella! I was just coming to get you! Come in, come in! She's back! Aunt Renee is back!"

Grasping my hand, she tugs me in, dragging me through the house. Looking behind me, I see Edward slowly following us, smiling softly as he rakes a hand through his hair.

Because I'm not paying attention to where I'm being dragged, I run straight into Rose's back, nearly knocking her over. She laughs and steadies both of us, giving me a tight hug before passing me to Jasper, who hugs me just as tightly.

I return his embrace half-heartedly, forcing a chuckle out as he twirls me around, laughing in my ear. When he finally releases me, I teeter slightly, blindly reaching for the wall to regain my balance.

Once the dizziness has passed, my eyes immediately zero in on my father, looking much better than the last time I saw him.

His eyes are brighter, and his smile is genuine, though the effects of months' worth of stress still linger in his bloodshot eyes and the purple shadows underneath them. He looks haggard, but the laid-back slope of his shoulders and his relaxed frame says more than words ever could. Grabbing him in a tight hug, I squeeze him for all I have, burying my face in his shoulder and inhaling the familiar musky scent of his cologne, the peppermints he loves so much and another sweeter scent that seems vaguely familiar, but I can't place it for the life of me.

After a moment, I pull back and look him in the eye. "Do you know how worried we were? You disappear for four days and only send text messages? I expect this behavior from other parents, but you? I'm so disappointed," I joke, trying to control the annoying scratch in my throat and the burning in my eyes. "You and Mom are in a load of trouble. You're both grounded forever."

Dad laughs, his mustache twitching. "Really?"

"Yep. I'm almost tempted to ask what you were doing, but I'm not going to."

"Good choice," he muses. "As I've said before, I can't afford the therapy bills for you."

I scrunch my nose in distaste. "Ew, come on, Dad. And I'm serious," I tell him, pointing a finger. "You and Mom are grounded."

Again, Dad laughs boisterously, throwing his head back. "And how do you plan on accomplishing that?"

"I'll get a lawyer," I immediately reply. "I just need to borrow some money."

Dad's voice is humorously droll when he replies. "Yeah, I'll get right on that."

Playfully, I push his shoulder. "So, where's Mom?"

He doesn't need to answer, though. Looking over his shoulder, I see Mom standing near the table, looking content, radiant, and more beautiful than ever.

I stare in awe and shock, feeling like I'm seeing her for the first time.

Her hair is fuller and thicker, shining under the muted light filtering in through the windows. There's an iridescent glow about her skin, seemingly radiating from the inside out. Her eyes are still sparkling with vibrant energy, though they appear to be a shade darker, but that could be because of the dull light.

Without another thought, I rush toward her, seeing Dad follow me and come to stand next to Mom, but I pay him no mind as I throw my arms her, squeezing tightly.

Immediately, I notice something is off.

While her skin is still soft, there's a certain firmness that wasn't there before.

Slowly, I pull back and study her closely from head to toe.

Everything about her looks the same, but at the same time, it doesn't … I just can't put my finger on _what _exactly makes her so different.

A thousand questions fill my head as I stare at my mother, but only one spills from my lips.

"What happened to you, Mom?"

She laughs, the sound richer and lighter, taking on a musical quality I'm sure wasn't there before.

"Oh," she says, waving a dismissive hand. "I had a little accident, as I'm sure you've been told. I got frightened and slipped. I hit my head and had a bit of a concussion." Her hand slides up the side of her neck and into her hair, softly rubbing at the base of her skull.

Her face pinches as if she's in pain, her eyes drifting closed as she swallows thickly. Dad steps up and wraps an arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss on her temple. To my surprise and shock, Esme steps up on her other side, whispering in her ear.

Taking a step back, I look around, seeing Carlisle behind Esme, sympathetically smiling as he places a hand on his wife's shoulder.

After taking a few deep breaths, Mom smiles, though there's still something heavy in her eyes. "I'm okay," she says, plastering a smile on her lips. "I'm okay," she repeats.

Esme takes a step back, patting my arm once and turning into her husband's arms, leaning back with a contented sigh. They remain close, inclined against the edge of the counter, their gazes locked on Mom with studious eyes.

"Mom?"

Her eyes snap to mine with a speed that startles me; I jump lightly, taking half a step back.

"I'm okay," she says once more. "Anyway, I had a concussion and spent some time at a clinic in Seattle. Carlisle was gracious enough to personally look after me."

I catch Carlisle's soft smile and nod before I focus back on my mother.

"And everything is all right now? You're … okay?" I hedge, eying her warily, still trying to process exactly _how _she's different.

"I'm fine," she beams, her earlier despondence long forgotten. "Don't I look it?"

In a familiar move, she steps forward and spins around, her sky blue, gypsy-style dress billowing out around her knees like a cloud.

"Yeah, a little too fine."

"Bella," Rose scolds, nudging my shoulder before she slides past me, squeezing in between Mom and Dad and hugging Mom's side. "Would you let it go? She's fine … she's great, actually, and she's back! I thought you'd be happy."

I stiffen slightly. The air around me shifts as multiple people step toward me, one of them coming to stand next to me. From the way I feel instantly calmer, I know one of them is Jasper. "I am. I'm thrilled, honestly. I just—"

"It's understandable," Carlisle interjects, leaning forward, his face filled with kindness. "The image you were left with probably made things appear worse than they were, but I promise you, your mother is fine. Better than fine, actually. She's in excellent health."

"I'm sorry about that, Bella," Dad says, sheepishly. "I didn't mean to scare you kids. It's just … your mother is everything to me and the thought of anything happening to her—" he trails off, his voice choked.

Rose moves out of the way as Mom turns toward him, kissing him squarely on the lips before pulling him into a tight hug.

"I'm here, honey."

Dad nods and squeezes her back; his eyes closed tightly as he embraces her. Their moment is so intimate that I look away, my gaze landing on Edward's, who stares at me with worry swimming in his amber eyes. He watches me intently, and while it's completely insane, I feel as if he's trying to tell me something, but I don't have the code.

A throat clearing breaks me out of my stupor, and I turn toward my parents.

Again, I stare at my mother, my mind immediately trying to decipher _what _makes her seem so different. But at the same time, Rose's words come racing through my head.

She's right; all that matters is that my mom is back.

I need to let this go, no matter how much it nags me.

* * *

**Thoughts?  
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**I'll update soon, I promise! **


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello! I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe.  
**

**Fran, Monica03, and Mr G and Me are the best. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

The interior of the car is thick with tension. Anticipation sits heavily in the air, like the humidity outside the hunk of metal and glass we're sitting in.

My foot bounces against the floorboard, my fingers tapping an irregular rhythm against the vinyl of the door.

Up front, Rose and Jasper are no better.

Rose's hands are tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles a bone-white as her foot presses down on the gas pedal. The engine roars and small rocks are kicked up against the tires, spraying in a wave against the asphalt.

Jasper shifts in the passenger seat, leaning on his elbow as he stares out the window. Every so often, he'll sigh and shift again, the dashboard creaking as he grasps it, using it to help him move.

This has become our new normal since Mom and Dad came back nearly a week ago.

As soon as the bell rings, we race out the door and book it to the car. Our doors don't even completely shut before Rose tears out from the school parking lot, eager to get home.

We have been transformed into anxiety-ridden bundles of energy, wondering if Mom will still be there when we get there. We're slightly mollified during the day by sending her multiple text messages.

Mom answers each and every one of our texts with rapid response, though I know the constant barrage throughout the day is annoying her.

Despite the reassurances, they do nothing to help our worries, and we're always anxious to get back to her.

Before, the ride to and from school was a short one, thanks to the location of our house and the small size of Forks.

Lately, it seems ten times as long.

Finally, our street comes into view, and Rose zips into the driveway, nearly scratching the side of Dad's cruiser. The only sign of acknowledgment she gives about the near-miss is her wincing and sucking air through her teeth.

Jasper and I are hurdled into our respective doors, but for once, I don't mind.

I need to see my mother; maybe this time, I can talk to her one on one. There are some things the two of us need to discuss; I can no longer keep silent about my thoughts, and I think it's high time I had my say.

That's been highly difficult, though.

Since she came back, it seems as if there's no way to talk to her alone; someone is always with her, whether it's Dad or Rose. Jasper has been tagging along with each of them as well, no doubt wanting to be close to her after the scare we all had.

Now, I'm bound and determined to speak to her by myself, even if I have to force her into a room and lock the door.

As fast as I can, I unbuckle my seatbelt and scramble for the door handle. In my haste, I trip over the strap of my bookbag and fall to the ground, scraping the palms of my hands.

"Shit."

"You okay?" Rose asks, helping me stand.

I nod, brushing the dirt off my clothes. "Yeah, I just want to get inside."

Rose's hands tighten on mine as she tilts her head, raising a warning brow. "Bella, don't."

"Don't what?" I question, yanking my hands from her grip. "I just want to talk to my mother. Is that a crime?"

"Of course not, but I think you're trying to push her."

"I'm not—"

"You are," she insists. "Ever since she came back, you've been trying. Stop it. She has enough to worry about at the moment. Just … leave her be."

Briefly, my anger flares at her words.

She doesn't know what she's talking about, and it pisses me off to no end that she thinks she does. I dislike the fact that she's trying to control what I do based on what she thinks is best. I want to tell her all of this—in fact, I want to scream it—but I refrain.

Instead, I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth, reminding myself that she's merely trying to help alleviate the stress from my mother.

"I won't stress her out, but I _will _talk to her; she's my mom, Rose."

Without waiting for her response, I spin around, my intent firmly on the front door. Just before I reach the porch, I feel a strange pressure around my ankles, as if something is trying to weigh me down. I push past it, only to find the pressure growing and settling around me like a lead weight.

My footsteps falter, and I pause, feeling strangely apprehensive about going inside. As soon as the thought enters, I push it away; this is my house, and this is my _mom_. There's nothing to be nervous about.

"You okay?" Jasper asks, laying a gentle hand on my arm.

"Yeah."

Rose flanks my other side, the bottom corner of her lip tucked between her teeth as she gazes at me worriedly. "You sure? You looked unsteady."

"Yeah, I guess I didn't eat enough or something," I murmur. "I'm fine."

Together, we race up to the house and clumsily file inside, stopping short as we meet the eyes of four people, none of which belong to Mom or Dad.

My hope of talking to Mom alone quickly deflates as I take in the faces staring back at us.

The Cullens—except for Carlisle—are sitting stiffly around the table with untouched coffee mugs in front of them. Edward sits in my chair, turned in my direction with one arm bent over the back of the chair, and an ankle thrown over the opposite knee.

"Oh, hey," I greet, wondering why they're here and _how _they got here. I didn't recall seeing a car outside, but then again, I didn't look for one.

Stepping back, I peer through the window and immediately spot the black Volvo sitting by the curb in front of the house.

So much for my observational skills.

Edward smirks and shakes his head lightly as if he knew what I was thinking.

"What are you doing here?" I question, my tone somewhat snarky.

"I was just in the neighborhood," he smoothly replies. "Why? Does my … _appearance _bother you?"

"More than you know," I reply with a sneer, swinging my gaze away from him, waving at a subdued Alice and pensive Emmett, boring holes into Rose's eyes, who is staring at him just as intently, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth. Once she realizes I'm looking between the two of them, she quickly looks away, busying herself with her cell phone.

Rolling my eyes, I catch Esme's sly grin as she looks between Edward, me, my cousin, and her son, seeing the glint in her eye as she watches the pair.

Seconds later, she turns her attention toward all of us, smiling fondly while murmuring her greeting.

"Hello, dears. How are you?"

"Fine," Rose replies slowly, looking at each Cullen—Emmett getting the quickest glance—with bewilderment. "Where are Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie?"

Esme clears her throat, shifting in her seat ever so slightly. One of her hands curls around the coffee cup and tightens marginally, her knuckles whitening before she relaxes her hands, folding them in her lap. Briefly, her eyes lift toward the ceiling before looking back at us.

"Upstairs. They needed a moment of privacy to discuss some things."

Nodding without comprehension, I toss my book bag to the floor, jumping as a door upstairs slams open, and heavy, thunderous footsteps reverberate through the ceiling.

"—so stubborn?" Mom scolds, following after Dad as he stomps down the stairs in his gray uniform. "I can help!"

"I said no, Renee. End of discussion. I don't care if you—" he pauses, his eyes bulging as he sees me, Rose, and Jasper standing near the door.

Mom doesn't look much better than he does. Smiling sheepishly, she waves. "Hi, kids. Don't mind us."

"Everything all right?" Rose inquires.

"We're fine, honey."

Rose nods, though she doesn't appear to believe her if her pursed lips are anything to go by.

Wanting to break the tension, I step toward my parents. "Hey, Mom, can we—"

"Bella, no. Now isn't a good time," Dad interrupts, still staring at Mom. "Renee, let it go."

Mom shoots me an apologetic smile, returning her attention to Dad, her face set in grim determination as she plants her hands on her hips and stands tall.

"Well?" She challenges.

"No." Unblinkingly, Dad matches her stare with one of his own as they face off silently.

No one moves or dares to breathe as they're locked in a voiceless standoff. The only ones who moves or make a sound are Mom and Dad, who huff or grunt while they shake their heads or nod every so often.

Taking the opportunity, I stare at my parents, noting the differences in my father immediately; gone is the look of relief from a couple of weeks ago when Mom came back. His face is haggard, and his eyes are sunken in, framed with deep purple-like bruises. His complexion is pale, almost a sickly white, that stands out against the dark stubble on his face.

Even his posture screams of someone who is tired and bogged down, but still, he holds his head high and doesn't crumble under Mom's glare.

The shrill ring of a phone cuts through the tense quiet, jolting my parents out of their disagreement. Mom sighs heavily, her shoulders falling as Dad mutters a curse, declining the call and shoving it back in his pocket.

"I have to go," he says, his tone defeated and exhausted. Immediately, my heart hurts for him. "Please, Renee … stay _safe. _For us._"_

Understanding washes over Mom's features, and she nods once, her eyes drifting toward us before reaching for my father, pulling him into a warm embrace. I turn away, not wanting to interrupt their moment, and I can see everyone else doing the same.

There's a low murmur of their voices as they whisper, and I have a feeling Mom hasn't let her issue go as easily as Dad would have liked.

"Bye, kids. I'll see you later, okay? You all stay safe too."

We nod, giving him a hug as he walks past us, toward the door. Jasper follows behind, casting a quick glance toward Alice as he does.

"Do you need help or anything?" he quietly asks.

Dad gives a faint smile, shaking his head, and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I'm good, Jasper, thanks." His eyes drift to Alice momentarily before focusing back on Jasper, leaning toward him so he can whisper. "Remember what we talked about, okay? Only do what you're ready for; if you only want friendship right now, then that's okay. If she's a good person, she'll understand. She'll wait."

I blink rapidly, surprised Jasper has talked about this with him, but at the same time, I'm really glad. Maybe now he'll be more relaxed around her.

Jasper nods, his face set in fierce determination and steps away, nodding in thanks. He steps back, and I quickly take his place.

"Are you gonna be all right?" I quietly ask, staring into his bloodshot eyes, the color so much like my own.

"I'll be fine," he immediately says before tweaking my nose playfully. "It's nice you're so concerned about me. I guess you do love me."

I wave a dismissive hand. "Pfft. I'm just concerned about you cracking up. Forks already has one crazy person running around town. We don't need another one … especially one that's practically famous, _chief_," I remark playfully.

Dad laughs. "Aw, you don't want to be embarrassed by your old man, huh? I'm sorry to say, _that _is inevitable. I'm just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I'm thinking prom … maybe graduation. Something where the whole town can see."

Playfully, I groan and allow my head to fall back momentarily before straightening and looking my father in the eye. I return his smile and grab him in another hug, feeling like he needs it.

"Thank you, sweetie," he whispers.

I say nothing, instead opting to squeeze him tighter for a moment before pulling back.

"I better get going." He looks into the kitchen where the Cullens are still sitting, watching with curious and amused glances. "Thank you for coming over. I appreciate it."

Esme smiles kindly. "Of course. We're here to help."

Nodding once, Dad gives a single wave, shooting a pointed look at Mom before shutting the door firmly behind him. Mom huffs, her eyes narrowed at the wood and brass before her mood does a complete three-sixty.

Gone is the heavy displeased frown and, in its place, is a beaming smile. With fluid, graceful movements that would make a ballerina envious, she sweeps over toward us and gives us all hugs and kisses. When it's my turn, I find myself leaning into her lukewarm embrace, noting how much more potent her scent has become.

It's not overwhelming, as if she had bathed in perfume, but still stronger than it was just the same.

When she pulls back, I can't help but stare at her, my eyes drifting down from the top of her head to her feet, looking for anything new or something to give me an indication of _how _she's different. To be honest, I have my theories, but I dismiss them just as quickly as they come.

She's different, but the same all at once. It's a confusing combination that leaves me seriously perplexed.

Uncomfortable with my staring, Mom clears her throat and gives me a pointed look. Smiling apologetically, I give a half-hearted shrug and lean against the banister. Exasperated, she rolls her shoulders and blows out a heavy breath, her squinted eyes trained on the floor.

Immediately, remorse flows through me. I feel bad for constantly staring, for my thoughts always straying from _is she okay _to how _is she different, yet she's not? _

It doesn't matter. Deep down, I know this. Every day, I'm thankful she's here, but I can't seem to quell my curiosity or my inquisitive nature. Something, I realize, I must get from Dad's police instincts.

"Mom, can we talk … privately?"

At once, she stiffens, and her smile turns cautious. "Bella, we don't have anything to talk about; I'm fine, okay? What more needs to be said?"

"What about _how _you're different and yet the same?" I ask, my words low and coming out in an unintentional hiss. Immediately, I correct my tone by taking a deep breath and try again. "I know _something _is up here. I just want to know what."

Gently, Mom places a hand on my elbow and escorts us away from the kitchen. It's not as private as I would like, but it's better than nothing.

"Bella," she starts, brushing hair behind my ears and cradling my face between her cool palms.

It's another thing that different; before, she always ran warm, but now it always seems like she's been running her hands under cold water.

In reality, it doesn't bother me. It's just the other difference that's nagging me.

"Sometimes," she continues, "miraculous things happen to people. Things that help people get what they really want and need to survive in the world." Thickly, she swallows, her eyes becoming glassy, but no tears fall. "While I was … away … what I wanted … what I _really _wanted and needed was to be like myself and to be home. Luckily, I was given that gift."

Like my mother, I swallow thickly at the implications her cryptic words provide. My minds runs rampant with possibilities at what I _think _she's suggesting, but without asking further questions, I'm still confused.

"Mom, are you saying—" I stop short because I can't even begin to comprehend the things that come into mind.

Then again, it's not completely surprising. I've seen Rose and Jasper share extraordinary gifts but thought that was just a twin thing. When I met Alice and noticed her blanking out randomly, I thought it was definitely odd, but I had seen enough documentaries to know that sometimes people are born with gifts.

Now I'm wondering, could a life-altering event bring out _gifts_ in people?

My eyes drift toward the Cullens, wondering which of them have gifts. Does Esme? Emmett? Edward? If so, what are they?

Suddenly, the Cullen boys rise from their chairs to stretch, laughing at something that was said between them, effectively distracting me. Mom takes the opportunity to glide into the room, refilling their untouched mugs.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Rose's eyes glued to Emmett, watching his movements with hawk-like precision. I expect him to smirk, wink, or perhaps show off and give my cousin a little show, but his face is drawn in a serious frown, his focus on the ceiling as he moves.

Unwillingly, my gaze drifts over to his brother, who stretches more, his shirt rising slightly, his pale stomach, and a thin trail of dark hair disappearing into the top of his jeans on display. My mouth goes dry for a moment, the sight leaving me transfixed. It's only when he lowers his arms, and his shirt subsequently falls that my attention snaps to his face.

He raises an eyebrow, and his lips twitch in a smirk. Rolling my eyes and cursing inwardly, I look pointedly at his shirt, noting a blotchy gray stain on the fabric. I point to my own shirt and then his. He looks down and frowns, his fingers swiping at the fabric with agitation.

Satisfied he doesn't think I was mesmerized by him, I swing my gaze away to my mother, who is looking between Edward and me with the same glint Esme had when she was looking at Emmett and Rose.

I give her an impassive look, letting my face reveal nothing. She shrugs once, still smiling, her annoyance now forgotten.

"How was school?" Mom questions us.

"Boring."

"Fine."

"Okay," is our collective, unenthusiastic response.

To be honest, school has gone back to being uneventful and dull since Edward, Emmett, and Alice started homeschooling. It just hasn't been the same without Alice rambling on at lunch or verbally teasing Edward just to get a reaction out of him.

I'm tempted to ask when or if they'll even come back, but that will open a whole new can of worms I don't want to touch.

"Any homework?"

"A few assignments," I reply, trying not to let my gaze drift toward Edward too many times. I've already looked at him three times as it is _and_ almost got caught staring. If his ego gets any bigger, I'm sure the house will explode. "It's nothing difficult, though. I got most of them done in study hall."

Jasper murmurs in agreement, and Mom beams. "My smart babies! I'm so proud of you."

Smiling, I brush some hair behind my ears and peer over her shoulder at the Cullens, purposely ignoring the smirking one to my left.

"So," I start, rocking back on my heels and jutting my chin toward the Cullens. "Everything okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Esme came in to check on me, and we spent the afternoon talking. Isn't that nice?"

I hum and nod, eying my mother critically. The Cullen's have been in town for a while, and they've never come over longer than a few minutes, except when Mom had returned home from her injury.

It makes me wonder if she's doing as well as she's letting on.

"I'm _fine,_" Mom says, a hint of exasperation in her words as she correctly interprets my curious glances.

"She truly is," Esme interjects. "Carlisle wouldn't have let her come home if she wasn't. We were in the area, doing a nature walk for their physical education credits," she explains, waving a hand toward her kids. "And we wanted to stop in. Honestly, she's okay."

My body slumps, and I release a heavy breath, finding a smile tugging on my lips. "Okay, then."

"You worry too much," Mom lightly scolds.

"Well, excuse us for being worried after what happened."

On either side of me, Rose and Jasper nod in unison, looking unapologetic.

Mom sighs and shakes her head with exasperation, a small grin pulling at her lips. Finally, her shoulders drop, and she throws up her arms dramatically.

"Fine, but no more," she warns, a playful glint in her eye. "I know you were worried, and I'm sorry about that, but I'm okay now. Truly. You don't need to worry, okay? Promise me."

The three of us mumble unintelligibly, doing a combination of a nod and shrug; a telltale sign none of us are going to keep those promises.

"Between the three of you and Charlie, I'm going to go insane," Mom mutters, followed by a heavy sigh.

She plants her fisted hands on her hips as her head falls back, her face upturned toward the ceiling, and her eyes squeezed closed. A single foot taps in an irregular, frustrated rhythm, the wood floorboards underneath creaking slightly. She takes slow and steady breaths, and little by little, the irritated tapping slows.

"I have an idea," Alice says, jumping up from the table, a huge, excited grin on her face, no doubt sensing the rising tension in the room. "Let's go into Port Angeles for the afternoon. I got an email alert about some Halloween shops that opened today on Main Street."

Excitement pulses through me; my blood rushes through my veins and my heart races in double-time. All of this excitable energy has me bouncing on my toes, my hands coming together in front of me as I look at my mother with pleading eyes.

The pleading, however, seems to be unnecessary. Mom looks hesitantly enthusiastic with the suggestion, no doubt wanting some peace and quiet. But at the same time, she seems worried about us being so far away with the disappearances still occurring.

Sharing a look with Alice, and then with Esme, Mom nods.

"Go and have fun," she says with a wave of her hand. "Just be careful, okay?"

Jasper looks just as eager as I do, and with one final look, we race to put our stuff away before sprinting back to the front door, where Rose still stands. She's watching Mom and Esme quietly converse, and to my surprise, Esme looks a bit upset as she speaks with Mom.

Whatever is being said, Mom is taking her seriously, nodding every so often. But to me, I can tell she's not completely paying attention.

"Are you coming with us?" I ask Rose, keeping one eye on the two women in the kitchen.

"Ooh, yes! That would be so much fun." Alice interjects, looking at Rose with sparkling eyes.

Rose eyes her with suspicious aversion, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she glances between the three of us.

"I don't think so."

Jasper sighs heavily at her reluctance, rubbing a hand over his face and giving her a hard look. Gently grasping her elbow, he pulls her into the living room, crossing his arms over his chest, still glaring at her through slightly narrowed eyes.

"You could be a little nicer, you know."

"I just don't feel like—"

"If this is the same old shit, I have to tell you she hasn't made a move on me," he grinds out through clenched teeth. "She's been nothing but friendly toward Bella and me. Nothing has changed in her friendship with Bella."

I nod in agreement. Alice hasn't done anything to make me think she's using me to get close to Jasper. She's been the same friend she has been since she sat with me at lunch. Sure, she's been kind of absent-minded and withdrawn, but she's obviously going through a lot right now. I'm giving her space while sending the occasional text every now and then, telling her I'm here for her.

"I don't think it's—"

"Jesus, Rosalie," Jasper snaps. "Stop it. Be polite, okay? Alice hasn't been anything but nice, and she hasn't tried anything. Just be nice to her. She's Bella's friend … and mine."

The last two words come out softly as if he's nervous to admit it.

"Just come with us," I say, tugging on the sleeve of her shirt, trying to diffuse the situation. "It'll be fun to get out of the house for a bit. Maybe we can call Jake, and they can meet us there. It'll be like old times."

Rose huffs lightly, looking back toward the kitchen. Her eyes are drawn immediately to Mom, who smiles back as she chats with Esme. Then, ever so slightly, her eyes drift to the door, where Alice and Emmett are standing, waiting patiently.

After a moment of deliberation, Rose nods. "Fine. What I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted is that we can't stay too long. I have plans tonight, _and _I need to study."

I roll my eyes at the worried tone in her voice. She doesn't need to study as hard as she thinks she does. She always aces every test—whether she's studied for it or not—and knows the answers to every pop quiz she's given. Plus, she gets the highest grades on each and every state test, not to mention the freshman college tests her teachers in advanced placement give her.

When I tell her this, she grins, the smile small and bashful as her cheeks darken. "Maybe I get those grades because I study."

"Yeah, it has nothing to do with the fact that you're smart."

Rose flushes in embarrassment, not acknowledging my statement as she heads for the door.

Whipping out my phone, I shoot off a quick text to Jake, asking if he wants to hit the Halloween shops with us.

Seconds later, he responds.

_**Hells, yeah, B! Leah, Paul, and Seth are coming too. The rest of the gang is busy. See you soon! **_

I show the text to Rose and Jasper, who smiles excitedly. Alice and Emmett look on confused.

"I invited some friends from La Push. That's okay, right?"

I don't think it should be a problem, considering how comfortable they all seemed to be with one another, but I don't want to assume either.

"Of course!" Emmett replies, looking thrilled, much to my relief. "They're always welcome. Is Paul coming? 'Cause he owes me a rematch."

"A rematch for what?" I curiously ask, though, on second thought, I probably don't want to know. With these groups, there's no telling what kind of games they play.

"Racing, _and _arm wrestling. He thinks he's faster and stronger than me," he snorts. "In his dreams. Even Edward is faster than him."

Still in the kitchen, leaning against the table, Edward shakes his head. "Leave me out of it."

"Big baby." Emmett turns to glare at his brother, though there's no heat behind it. "It wouldn't kill you to race him once and prove me right!"

"Leave me out of it," Edward says raising his hands.

Emmett rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath.

"Who won last time?" Rose questions, leaning against the entrance of the living room with a curious smirk.

Shrugging his shoulders, his gaze drops to the floor as he mumbles, "it was a draw."

"Hmm," she hums, appraising him from head to toe, while I gape, surprised at his answer. How on earth was something like a tie between them? To me, it's clear who would win.

"I want to watch the rematch. I'll be an impartial judge."

For some reason, Rose's statement makes him happy, and he grins like an excited kid, nodding vigorously.

By his side, Alice excitedly scrolls through her phone; her face lit up in anticipation. Her expression matches his perfectly and the sight of it brings me out of my shock. I smother a laugh with the back of my hand, which gains Alice's attention.

"Check it out!"

I take a step back as she shoves the phone in my face. Once my eyes adjust, I see the video clip of a demonic-looking animatronic girl climbing up the wall, her eyes glowing red and her head spinning around. Her cheap-looking hair flies wildly as her head twists around like an owl, her movements jerky and robotic.

All in all, it's pretty cool.

Behind her, Emmett looks unimpressed if the deep frown he's sporting is anything to go by.

"Neat, huh? I'm so getting this one," she enthuses, pocketing her phone with a child-like enthusiasm as she jumps in place.

"Eh," Emmett replies, shrugging. "You always pick the suckiest decorations!"

"I do not!" She argues, her face screwing up in irritation as she stomps her foot. "I've scared plenty of people to the point where they peed themselves!"

"Maybe, but _this _decoration won't do that," he says, waving toward her phone.

"This is a great one!"

"Pfft. It looks cheap. There are tons of better ways to scare people than using _that _crappy thing."

Alice points a finger at his chest, jabbing him with each word. "Keep your opinions to yourself. I like it, and it doesn't suck!"

Emmett rolls his eyes, looking unimpressed with his sister's display of annoyance. "It does too. I'm just giving you my opinion, which you're going to ask for anyway. Edward, don't you think it sucks?"

Edward, who had been following the argument studiously, looks sharply away and blinks, widening his eyes into one of innocence and ignorance.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Pansy," Emmett spits, making Edward chuckle under his breath.

Meeting Edward's gaze, I nod in approval, biting my lip to keep my own laughter at bay in fear of being dragged into the conversation. Edward smirks back at me, returning his attention to his siblings as they continue.

"I'm telling you, in that video, it looks stupid and not scary enough for Halloween. If it looks better in person, I'll take it back." Emmett folds his arms over his chest in a final way, closing out his argument.

"Oh, you'll be taking it back," she tells him, a strange twinkle in her eye. As she continues, she pokes his chest again with each word she utters. "You'll _definitely _regret your opinions."

The knowing look on her face has Emmett shifting from foot to foot and scratching the back of his neck before breaking off in forced laughter.

"Yeah, sure. Are we going or what? Daylight's wasting."

Without another word, he's out the door, jumping off the steps and racing to the black Volvo parked by the curb. Alice chuckles darkly and sinisterly grins, her entire face transforming into something devious.

"He thinks he's right all the time and knows what's best. While I'll admit, some decorations I've picked in the past weren't that good, but I've gotten better. I _know _this one will be scary … and I'll prove it. He'll scream like a little girl."

Alice follows her brother, slowly whistling as she slowly saunters across the lawn toward their car. Rose chuckles at the interaction, grabbing her purse on the way out.

"This might not be so bad, after all."

Shaking my head at her, I turn back, seeing Edward standing in the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. It doesn't look as if he has any intention of joining us, and before I can stop myself, words spill from my lips.

"Are you coming?"

A slow, wide smirk spreads on his face. Pushing off the wall, he walks toward me slowly, coming to a stop a foot away. I swallow thickly, realizing my mistake.

"You want me to come with you?"

Innocently as I can, I do a combination of a shrug and a shake of my head, patting his chest once. "I don't care. I just wanted you to feel like you were included so you wouldn't feel left out. I don't want you going even crazier on us because we didn't invite you to play."

His low chuckle follows behind me, but I do my best to ignore him, heading toward Rose's car since we can't fit into one vehicle. Just as we part ways, I think I feel a gentle caress across the back of my hand. My head shoots up, but all I see is Edward eyeing Emmett with annoyance as he stands next to the driver's side door, nervously staring at a maniacal looking Alice.

I know I had felt _something _glide across my hand, but there's nothing on my skin, nor is there anything hanging off my sleeve. I suppose I could have imagined it, or it could have been a muscle spasm, but there's something inexpressive about Edward's face to make me think he's innocent.

"Did you—?"

"What?" Edward inquires, raising a single brow.

My footsteps falter at the brief twinkle I see in his eye, but it's gone too quickly before I can make out what it means.

"Come on!" Jasper bellows out of the passenger side window just before I can say a word. "Get in the car."

Rose stands by the driver's side; a hip cocked out as she twirls her keys around her index finger.

"Move," Edward demands of his brother, fishing out his own keys from his pocket.

Emmett shakes his head, nodding over toward a still smirking Alice. "No way! You get in the passenger seat, and _she _sits in the back."

"And you call _me _a baby. Move."

When Emmett refuses to budge, Edward rams his shoulder into Emmett's, barely causing him to jostle. He stands firm, his feet planted hip-width apart, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug smile.

"Really? That's cute; it tickled."

"Emmett, there's no time for this," Edward grunts in frustration, running a hand through his hair and looking over his shoulder. Seeing all of us staring, he turns back around, leaning a hand against the car and tapping his fingers against the top. "Do you really want her sitting _behind _you where you can't see her?"

Emmett's head whips around to stare at his sister in wide-eyed apprehension, which doesn't abate as he sees her smirk grow. Stepping back, he jumps into the backseat and locks the door, gesturing for Alice to take the passenger seat.

Over the top of the car, Edward and Alice exchange amused glances, looking as if they were again having one of their secret conversations.

"We'll follow you," Edward calls out just before he gets into the car.

Moments after we pull out of the driveway, I peer over my shoulder, and upon seeing me looking, Edward smirks and gives me a two-fingered wave.

Lightly, I roll my eyes and turn around, watching as the trees blur past my window.

The peace from watching the scenery race past me doesn't last long. Rose slows the car down to a crawl, her hands gripping the wheel tightly as she leans forward.

"Oh, no," she murmurs, her voice no louder than the gentle rumble of the engine. "What happened?"

My stomach tightens and flips as my palms become slick, and my hands lightly shake. The skin on the back of my neck tingles, the flesh tightening my heart thunders in my ears.

This uneasiness, something I've felt a few times before, crashes over me in a heavy wave, making me feel paranoid and jittery.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I lean slightly to the left and peer out of the windshield, immediately seeing the issue.

Three police cars and an ambulance are lined up on the road, their red and blue lights swirling together against the mass of dark green trees. The blur of lights creates a dizzying effect, and briefly, I think I see the sight of a body perched near the top of the evergreen, their head titled down as they watch the scene below.

"Pull up," I urge, tapping Rose on the shoulder, my heart thundering in my chest as my breathing accelerates, coming out in low, sharp bursts through my parted lips.

Both Rose and Jasper turn to look at me, concern evident in their features, but I pay them no mind, my eyes glued to the trees on my right.

Finally, she does as requested, driving an inch at a time before coming to a gentle stop.

This vantage point is much better and gives me a clear view of this person hanging around in the trees—or rather the large cluster of debris, made up of leaves and a deflated balloon.

Jaw tightening and eyes narrowed, I glare at the contorted shape stuck in the tree. My hands shake and twitch toward the door, wanting to open it and march over there for closer inspection. Deep down, I know I would have if it weren't for the large group of people walking about, their faces set in a grim mask.

Uniformed officers trek between their cars and the woods, some holding plastic bags and others writing notes while they quietly speak to one another.

Their movements are stiff and precise, their eyes hollow and serious as they talk and look over the area with a critical eye. From years of seeing my father work, I know they're all deeply focused on their work … and even more, slightly disturbed by whatever happened here.

Dad stands in between the middle of the activity, his back to the road as he speaks with an EMT, nodding at whatever the man is telling him. His cast rests on his hip while the other hand is up toward his face, his fingers most likely roughly scratching his mustache and the stubble on his chin and cheeks.

The man he's with nods toward us and points, prompting Dad to turn and stare unseeingly, his face blank and hard. Robotically, he moves toward the car, coming to stop a foot away.

"Uncle Charlie?" Jasper inquires, waving a hand in Dad's direction.

He doesn't reply or make a move to acknowledge Jasper's attempts for his attention. Exchanging concerned glances, Rose unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door, shifting her body so she can heave herself from the vehicle.

At the sound a car door slamming, Dad snaps out of his daze, blinking rapidly. He scrubs a hand over his face; his eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

"Hey, kids. You can't stay parked here," he tells us, nodding behind us.

Turning to look, I see a small line of cars paused behind ours, but surprisingly, Edward's car isn't one of them. Instead, he's parked on the side of the road; his body angled toward Alice as she sits in the front seat, her fingers massaging her temples in short, agitated circles.

Emmett leans forward from the back; his cell phone clutched in his hand. Whatever is being said must not be good news as his face morphs into a look of fury. Edward's expression is no better, and the looks he's sporting now is strangely reminiscent of the night he saved Rose and me from Royce.

His fingers tap on the steering wheel in short, aggravated bursts as he leans toward the phone, gritting something out between clenched teeth. Behind him, Emmett lightly slaps his shoulder, though he doesn't look any better than his brother.

"—okay?" Rose asks, leaning toward the passenger window. The corner of her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her eyes roam over his face. "You don't look good."

Dad barks out a humorless laugh, scrubbing a hand down his face. His eyes closely watch each car that slowly passes us, his stare hard and fierce.

"You can always count on family to tell you the truth."

"If we don't tell you, who will?" I ask, forcing a smile. "You do look bad."

My words are meant to tease, but there's truth behind them too. I'm concerned about these latest events. I wonder just how much he can take before he cracks.

Dad chuckles, a shimmer of humor appears in his eyes for a moment before it dulls.

Rose ignores me and keeps her stare on Dad. "It wasn't meant _that _way," she admonishes, though there's no force behind it.

"I know, I know." Dad trails off in a sigh, looking behind him briefly before returning his gaze to us. "Go on to where you need to be, okay? Just be careful … and don't cause trouble until after six. I can't cover for you until then."

He attempts a smile, but like his joke, it comes out forced and stilted. Realizing this, he sighs again, waving forward.

"You better get going. I want you three home for dinner."

Rose's head drops forward slightly, but she nods, her lip still caught between her teeth. "Okay," she replies quietly. "Be safe."

"Always. See ya, kids."

We wave to Dad as Rose slowly pulls back out onto the road. Turning around once more, I look for Edward's car, but it's no longer parked on the side of the road, nor is it in the line of cars following behind us.

Did they pass us without me realizing it?

Surmising they must have, I check my phone but find no messages from Alice. I'm tempted to call and see if everything is all right, but something tells me I better not.

I'm sure if they've changed their minds about coming, they'll let us know sooner or later.

Sitting back, I try to enjoy the scenery racing past my window, but my mind keeps drifting to the scene we left behind. The scene my father is currently in the middle of.

What had happened?

Was it an animal sighting?

Did someone get hurt hiking in the woods?

Did some kids try to burn down the forest, attempting to be "cool" as they smoked up?

All of these are valid possibilities since they've happened more than once in the past, but deep down, I already know the truth.

Someone else was found, and unfortunately, they won't get their happy ending.

With vivid clarity, I remember Bree Tanner's parents, sobbing on the floor of the hospital, begging the doctor to bring their baby back. Squeezing my eyes closed does nothing to erase the image of their white-knuckled grip on each other as tears streamed down their faces, their eyes and moans radiating pure, debilitating pain.

Who would that be tonight? One of my friends? Arthur? Someone from town?

Regardless, it's _someone _… it's someone's family member, and they're someone loved.

Pushing the thoughts away, I ignore Jasper's curious gaze as he turns toward me. Breathing deeply through my nose, I attempt to control the ache in my chest, and the shakiness of my hands.

"Everything okay?"

I jerk a shoulder upward, trying to push out all of the familiar faces of the people I know. Until there's more to go on, I know I shouldn't assume, but with the people still missing in the area, it's hard not to.

"You don't know anything yet, so don't assume the worst," he murmurs, nudging my knee with his hand. "It could have been anything."

"That's true," Rose offers. "It could have been anything. I know things have been scary around here lately, but Forks has its _normal, _everyday crimes too."

Blowing out a breath, I rest my head against the seat and nod, settling in for the rest of the ride. They're right, it could be anything and I don't need to think negatively. Despite logic telling me Dad and the other officers wouldn't have been _that _stoic and stony-faced if it were a regular, everyday crime, I _need _to believe it.

Right about now, normality would be good.

Before too long, Port Angeles comes into view, and Rose slows the car down to a reasonable speed, navigating toward downtown, where the Halloween shops are located.

Luckily, we manage to find a parking spot right in front of the row of shops, and we exit the car, seeing the windows lit up with orange and purple lights, and scary decorations plastered to the glass.

Anticipation vibrates up my spine and my lips quirk upward in a smile, my cheeks straining from the effort. Jasper mirrors my eagerness, his face bright and excited.

"Look at that," he whispers in awe, pointing to something in the window.

Following his line of sight, I see the white-masked, serial killer animatronic standing near the door, its arm raised high in the air, a long butcher knife in its grip.

Bouncing lightly on my toes, I squeeze my hands together in anticipation, wondering what the price for it will be. That movie series is one of my favorites, and I would _love _to have it, but I can't see paying a fortune for it.

Even I have my limits.

"How much do you think it is?"

"There's no way you're buying that," Rose interjects, looking at us like we're crazy. "Uncle Charlie will shoot that thing in the middle of the night! Not to mention, I'll have a heart attack. You're not getting it; absolutely not."

Jasper and I exchange a look, and I have no doubt his evil grin matches mine.

"We could split it. Hopefully, it doesn't cost that much," Jasper says, ignoring Rose's angry muttering.

We head toward the store, but stop as Rose speaks.

"Where is Em—the others? Weren't they following us?"

Irritation flashes across her face, as well as something else I can't name. It looks something similar to worry, but I can't be sure.

Jasper gazes around with his eyebrows furrowed together, shaking his head and jerking a shoulder upward. "Yeah, they were. That's odd. I wonder if everything is okay."

Fumbling for his phone, he presses a few buttons and brings it up to his ear, only to bring it back down after thirty seconds.

"It went to voicemail."

Rose crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips, tapping her foot against the concrete as she looks at her own phone, lips pressed together in a thin line. After a moment, she straightens, her eyes widening.

"Since they're not here, let's not stick around and waste our time. Let's head back."

"_We _still want to be here," I tell her, gesturing between Jasper and myself. "Besides, Jake, Leah, Seth, and Paul are coming. Don't you want to see them?"

Debating, her gaze shifts between the car and the store before landing on us. Seeing our determined and eager expressions, she sighs lightly, but nods and heads inside.

As soon as we step over the threshold, we're greeted with a symphony of ominous music, a creepy organ, rattling chains, thunder, and a low cackle that would make any five-year-old shiver in fright. It's a cliché track of "haunted house" sounds, but to me, it's the best sounds in the world.

Already, I can see tons of stuff I want to look at; creepy signs that "show" you the way to the haunted houses, mixed with humorous ones that mock old-style cafes, hotels, and witch's lairs.

Spider web of every variety—white, black, purple, and green—are strung up on the ends of the aisles, fake spiders stuck in the web.

Everywhere you turn, there's _something _spooky to look at, from masks to props of ghosts and severed heads, to demonic babies and creepy animals. There's something to suit every Halloween lover's taste.

It's why I love this time of year so much.

At the door stands the animatronic I saw from outside, and my hopes instantly die. It's near four hundred dollars. Even if Jasper and I pull our money together, there's no way we can afford this.

"That sucks," Jasper remarks, noting the price. "Oh, well. There's a ton of other stuff we can buy, though."

I nod in agreement; personally, I'd rather have a bunch of little things than one big thing I can't even keep out all year round.

Setting off in different directions, the three of us scour the store, slowly going up and the aisles leisurely. On the way, I snag a few items that catch my eye. I don't get everything I like, however, because I know I'll see something else later that I'll want even more.

Toward the back of the store, I pause near the floor to ceiling chart of costumes the store has available and slowly browse, drifting from picture to picture with moderate interest.

There's nothing that really stands yet, but I know I'll find something. If I can't, then I'll simply wear my backup costume, because there's no way I'm not dressing up.

Through the gap between the paper and the wall, a sliver of glass peeks through, allowing the sight of the street to shine through. Casually glancing, I take a quick look but do a double-take as I spot the Cullens across the street standing in a loose circle intently conversing amongst themselves, oblivious to everything around them.

However, that's not what has my attention.

It's the two people walking toward them, their intent clear.

A man with shoulder-length, medium blond hair, tied back with a thick leather cord walks confidently through the crowd, smirking as the people on the sidewalk gives them a wide berth. The woman next to him walks just as gracefully as he does, her wild and vibrant, fire-engine red curls bouncing with each step.

She too seems to enjoy the berth they're being given, her eyes staring unblinkingly at a few people as they pass. At certain times, she seems to lean toward them, as if she's going to touch them, but she never gets the chance. The man slings an arm around her shoulder, pulling her tight against his side as they continue toward the Cullens.

Instantly, I recognize the man.

He's the one that knew that creep Laurent, who cornered me in the alley.

He seemed _very _familiar with him, giving me no doubt he knew him rather well. The question, however, remains, is this guy a part of the disappearances and murders?

I'm sure Laurent has _something _to do with what's going on around town. He's too creepy and cryptic not to, but these two? I'm not too sure. If that guy knows Laurent, then there's a definite chance they are.

Quickly, I move through the store, heading toward the exit. I need to somehow warn the Cullens, so they're not ambushed. I'm sure they don't need my help, but I can't stand by and do nothing.

When I'm within arm's reach of the door, I run smack dab into a hard body. I fully expect the arms that grasp me to be cold, but instead, they're warm, bordering on hot.

Looking up, I see Leah standing in front of me with a smile, Jake at her side with his arms outstretched toward her. Concern mars his expression; his eyes focused on every move she makes. He only seems to relax when Leah pulls back slightly, sure I'm not going to fall.

Seeing his behavior, she rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side before pulling me into a hug. "Hey, you! Where are you running off to?"

"Yeah, leaving so soon? Do you hate us that much?" Jake teases, taking his turn to hug me.

"Of course not. I was just going to tell Ed—the Cullens something."

Jake and Leah exchange a look, their expressions flickering between amusement and worry before settling on indifference.

"Oh? And what do you have to tell _Edward_?"

Lightly, I kick Jake's shin; a little put-out, he doesn't even flinch. "I thought I—"

"What do you have to tell me?" Edward asks, stepping through the door, his sister following behind him. His lips quirk in a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling. "Bella? You had to tell me something?"

"Just that you're a huge pain in the ass," I quip.

"Are you sure that's all?"

I pause, tapping my pursed lips with my index finger. "Yup. Pretty much."

He chuckles, leaning toward me. Behind him, Jake's eyebrows bob up and down.

"Whoo! I _love _the tension between you two! Get it on!"

Leah smacks his shoulder, but she, too, is grinning as she watches Edward and me closely.

With his lips close to my ear, I shiver as his breath gently blows across the shell of my ear as he speaks. "Ditto."

Jerking back, I plaster a scowl and cross my arms, attempting to maintain an annoyed expression, but it's hard, so I settle for ignoring him.

Breaking in before things can get too tense, Alice pulls Leah and Jake into a hug. "I'm glad you could make it! We'll catch up later, okay? I have to get _my _decorations before Emmett vetoes them … and I still have to prove him wrong about the animatronic. See ya!"

Jake and Leah exchange confused glances, but chuckle anyway, shaking their heads at Alice's speedy speech and departure.

When she's gone, Edward turns to me with a raised eyebrow, obviously waiting on an answer.

"I thought I saw something. Where's Emmett?"

Edward pauses for a long moment, staring at me studiously before replying. "He had to get something from the car, and he wanted to catch up with Paul and Seth."

My shoulders drop in relief, and I release the short breath I had been holding. "Okay, good."

Before the silence can stretch on too long, Leah pulls Jake's arm.

"I have an idea; let's get a bunch of Halloween stuff and meet up outside to look at everything. It'll be fun! Come on, Jake. Let's go pick out our costumes."

Jake's shoulders hunch inward, and his head drops forward, his chin touching his chest as he drags his feet after her. "Really? Do we have to?"

"Yes, we have to," she replies, her voice fading the farther they get.

"So, were you concerned about me or something? You missed me, didn't you?"

I ignore Edward's smirk and shrug indifferently, unhurriedly strolling through the store. I don't hear him, but I know he's following behind me.

"Not really," I reply, my voice seemingly low with the music and various props playing throughout the store. "I was just going to get some air."

"Hmm," he hums, picking up a package of fake blood with a humorous smile, shaking the plastic jar rapidly. "Without paying for your stuff? You were willing to risk being arrested for shoplifting?"

"What can I say? I live an exciting life. Have to keep the thrill alive somehow."

"Right," he says, drawing out the word.

Bringing my bottom lip between my teeth, I walk away with my head held high, continuing my shopping. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Edward following behind me a few steps, randomly picking up whatever item catches his interest, or whatever item I look at. Every so often, his fingers brush against mine, but with his impassive face, I can't tell whether he's doing it on purpose or accidentally.

Jake and Leah meet up with me halfway through my browsing, opting to keep their costumes a secret, though the twinkle in their eye tells me it's anything but good.

In the next aisle over, I hear a high-pitched screech followed by a familiar cackle. Edward chuckles lowly, nodding his head toward the end of the aisle where a triumphant Alice walks past, followed by a pouting Emmett, who is lugging a huge animatronic box with him, grumbling under his breath.

From the scene, I deduce Alice had scared Emmett; I just wish I had been there to see it.

"Aw, man. I hope Alice recorded it."

"Oh, trust me," Edward replies, still laughing. "She did. Just wait until it gets closer to Halloween; she's made a compilation of Emmett's "frightened" moments."

Filled with giddy anticipation, I snicker, looking forward to the holiday for a whole other reason.

While we browse, we attempt to scare each other with various items we find and surprisingly, Edward joins in. He picks up a large fake rat and places it on Jake's head, who immediately bats it off and screeches, kicking the offensive item away with a curse.

The three of us erupt in laughter as Jake complains and grumbles. We continue on, with Leah and I muffling our laughter as Edward places plastic bugs on Jake's shoulders and his hair. The more that's put on him, the harder it is to contain our laughter.

"What?" Jake asks, looking suspiciously between us.

"Nothing," Leah and I answer at once, our giggling finally winning.

He rolls his eyes and continues on, scratching the top of his head.

Feeling the object in his hair, he freezes and slowly removes it, throwing the plastic roach away with a loud curse, shaking off the other bugs on him.

Unable to contain ourselves any longer, we break out in loud laughter, watching Jake move like a wet dog.

"They're not real, babe," Leah says with a chuckle.

"I don't care! I hate bugs and rats!"

Edward's smile at the scene catches me off guard; it's boyish and almost angelic, freezing me in a state of wonder and awe. I have to admit, it would make a beautiful picture, and I wish I could take one of him, but I think it would definitely give him a bigger ego.

Before he can catch me, I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting him to catch me staring.

"You missed one," I tell Jake, walking past him.

"Where?" he calls after me, his hands frantically searching his body. "Leah, where is it? Get it off of me!"

Snickering under my breath, I make my way toward the front of the store, looking for my cousins, but they're nowhere to be found.

Searching the aisles I didn't pass I come up empty. Surmising they must be in costume aisle, I head in that direction, coming to a halt at what I see.

Alice and Jasper stand close together, avidly discussing costumes and makeup. They laugh boisterously as Alice scrunches her nose at the makeup set in his hands, reaching for another one after a moment of perusal.

Jasper reaches for the product, and smiles genuinely, his eyes staring at her longer than he's ever done before. He murmurs something as his head drops, peering up at her through his lashes and mess of hair that hangs over his eyes.

Whatever he says prompts Alice to beam and nod vigorously, clapping with excitement. Jasper laughs at her enthusiasm, pointing to the wall of costumes. She turns her attention to where he's pointing, lips pursed in concentration.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward step up beside me, his eyes locked on the scene I'm seeing. His eyebrows high on his forehead. Slowly, we turn toward one another, wearing matching confused expressions.

Edward inclines his head toward the duo, and I shrug, shaking my head while I raise my hands in the air. I have no idea what's going on, but I have to admit I'm happy they're becoming good friends. Honestly, I think she would be good for him to hang around with. She has enough peppy, positive energy to mellow out his serious moods.

After paying for my purchases, we all meet at the door with Jasper rushing toward me excitedly; the stuffed, orange store bag clutched tightly in his grip. Alice follows behind him, seemingly on the same wavelength.

Jasper's eyes sparkle with excitement, and his grin is as bright as the moon as he opens the bag, nodding toward the contents as we filter out. Seth and Paul are leaning against Jake's Beetle, pushing off the car when they see us.

They greet us all enthusiastically, giving jovial slaps to the back for the guys and warm, tight hugs for the girls.

"Did you want to go back in?" Jasper offers.

Paul waves dismissively as Seth shakes his head.

"Nah, we're good," Paul says. "We're pretty tired, so we'll go with you another time."

Satisfied, Jasper opens the bag, thrusting it out to all of us. "Check it out! I'm gonna be a zombie!"

My eyebrows raise high on my head. "Really? You made a decision so soon?"

Animated, he nods. "Hell, yes! Alice showed me some makeup looks from an online tutorial. She's gonna help me."

Alice smiles shyly, happiness radiating from her entire being.

"Ooh! Lemme see," Jake interjects, slapping a hand on his shoulder. The rest of the guys gather around him, taking his costume and accessories out of the bag. Once they're done, they crowd around his phone, watching the video of his intended makeup look.

While they admire the handiwork of the artist in the video, I look toward Alice.

"Did you find something, Bella?"

Pursing my lips, I shake my head. "There were some viable options, but nothing concrete yet."

"Maybe I can help you pick something out?"

"Definitely."

She beams, joining the group of guys when they call her name, speaking over each other as they ask her question after question about her makeup abilities. Whipping out her phone, she shows them some of the makeup looks she's done for her family members in the past, and upon seeing how good she is, they all clamor for her to help them.

Shaking my head at their behavior, I look around for Rose. She's standing at the end of the block with Emmett, the both of them standing completely still, holding hands with their fingers intertwined.

A slow, huge grin grows on my lips as I observe them, noting their closeness. I can't help but wonder when _this _progression occurred, but all thoughts on their relationship are forgotten as I follow their line of sight.

Walking away from them is the man I had seen earlier, who had been familiar with Laurent, and the wild-haired redhead.

My stomach flips, and my heart thunders in my ears at the sight of them.

And from the way Rose and Emmett are staring after them, I have a feeling whatever occurred just now isn't good.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay in posts! I've had some trouble with a few chapters and other things in RL that have been a huge pain. I'm working on setting up an updating schedule so there won't be long delays in between posts. :o) **

** I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Stay safe! **


	23. Chapter 23

**Hello, my friends! I am *loving* your thoughts and theories on everything! Some of your ideas are spot on! ;)  
**

**BIG thanks to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03. They've helped me so much and I cannot thank them enough. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**This is a monster of a chapter, so I'll just let you dive in. **

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

Breathing deeply, I close my eyes as the cool and crisp air invades my lungs. It invigorates my senses and makes my body buzz with anticipation and excitement. I can't help but grin broadly at the feeling. After months of hot weather, it's finally cool again, the start of my favorite season.

Fall.

The scent of earth and rain is heady and prominent, thanks to the storm we had this afternoon. Underneath all of that is the aroma of caramel, pumpkin, and nutmeg, wafting from Mom's wax burner near the front door.

The breeze softly blowing by whistles through the elegant curls framing my face, causing me to shiver. The temperature has dropped quite a bit since I came out here twenty minutes ago, but it's too hot to stay indoors, especially in this dress.

Looking down, I smile happily at the dress adorning my body. Gently, I caress the fabric, my fingernails scratching against the lace.

Alice threw me for a loop when she came over earlier this afternoon and thrust the huge, black matte bag in my arms. When I had pulled out the floor-length, Victorian-style dress, draped in black lace and blood-red fabric cascading down the middle, I had been in awe.

The bodice is a corset style with a sweetheart neckline and a high collar that rests just below my ears. The shape of the collar and the neckline enhance my cleavage and makes me look a cup size bigger, something I don't particularly hate.

The deep red fabric starts just below the bust, falling in a ruffled wave to the bottom of the dress. The skirt, thankfully, isn't a hoop, though it does expand outward from my hips.

The lace sleeves flow down my arms, ending at a V on my middle finger, secured in place by a finger loop. It makes me feel regal as if I had stepped straight out of the gothic Victorian era.

I immediately recognized it from the photos she had shown me, and for the first time, I was completely speechless. My loss for words didn't improve when she also told me she is gifting it to me since I was the best friend she ever had.

Unable to help myself, I hugged her tightly and raced upstairs to put it on, where it's been ever since.

Slowly, the sky transitions from a gray-blue to an orangey-pink as the sun sinks in the sky. One by one, the houses illuminate in orange, purple, and green. Screeching sounds of monsters, bats, and zombies, as well as spooky moans and rattling chains, fill the air as decorations are electrified.

The entire block is decorated for Halloween; they were likely bitten by the same bug that prompted someone downtown to decorate the town square.

I'm not complaining, though. In fact, no one was more surprised than me when I found pumpkins, ghosts, scarecrows, skeletons, and black and orange garland hung up and down the street. When I had excitedly dragged Jasper with me, he shared my enthusiasm, amazed that for the first time, someone went all out for the holiday.

Normally, there's a pumpkin and ghost here and there, but this year it looked as if a Halloween shop threw up all over the street. The sight of the decorations littered around town, combined with the cool, crisp air, really brought out the Halloween-y vibes and put you in the mood to be spooky.

Mom's laughter filters through the door as she talks with Dad. Faintly, I can hear him respond back with a small chuckle, which relieves me. When he's home, he's been so tense and lost in his head that I've been worried for him. The shadows under his eyes have gotten darker, and the frown lines around his mouth are more prominent. Since people have gone missing, and the murder investigation began, I swear he's aged so much in such a short amount of time.

Mom constantly assures us he's okay, that she's taking care of him, and while I don't doubt her ability to do so, that doesn't erase the worry I feel whenever I see him.

The front door opens, and I keep myself facing forward, wanting my makeup look to be a surprise. Alice did a wonderful job making me look like a ghost, with my gray pallor, sunken, and dark eyes, and my blood-red lips.

"Bella, come inside! Alice is almost done with Jasper's makeup, and I want to take pictures before your Dad and I leave."

Spinning around, I laugh as Mom jumps, placing a hand over her heart.

"Nice way to react when you see your daughter," I tease.

"You startled me," she lightly scolds.

Before I can stop them, the words that have been dying to escape fall from my lips with ease. "I doubt I can startle you."

My eyes widen, and I press my lips together as if that can take back what's been said. Now that it's out in the open, however, I square my shoulders and meet her eyes, ready for this long-overdue conversation.

Seriousness overcomes her features, and she pulls the door shut behind her with a firm hand. "Are we on this again? I told you—"

"I know, but just hear me out, okay? I have some theories I'd like to run by you … and I _need _to talk to you, and I need you to listen."

An eyebrow quirks high on her forehead, and she cocks a hip out to the side. "I'm always here for you, you know that." Taking a deep breath, Mom squares her shoulders and nods once. "All right. Let's talk a walk and hear these _theories _of yours."

Twenty minutes later, Mom and I are walking back to the house in an uncomfortable silence. Every so often, I'll see her turn to look at me with concern, but underneath that, there's relief.

I've spoken my mind and gotten everything off my chest.

Now I'm okay with everything.

Kind of.

There are still things that seem unfathomable; things I have to remind myself are true because I've seen and heard too much weird shit _not _to believe. At a certain point, you simply have to accept some facts because even if it all seems otherworldly … in reality, it's right here.

Back on the front porch, Mom pauses with her hand on the doorknob, her lips pinched together between her teeth.

"Bella, I'm worried about—"

I shrug nonchalantly. "There's nothing to be concerned about, okay? This matter won't be brought up again. I've spoken to you, and you listened. As long as you don't lock me away in a hospital for my ideas, everything is fine."

"Oh, honey," she murmurs, gathering me into a hug. "If I were going to do that, I would have done so a long time ago."

I struggle to push away from her, fighting my laughter as her own melodic giggles ring through the air.

She doesn't release me completely; instead, she moves her hands to my shoulders, staring into my eyes.

"You're so brave and smart … sometimes. I've had doubts recently."

Rolling my eyes, I make a face. "Wow, who needs self-esteem with a mother like you? With that confidence, I can do ... absolutely nothing. I'm living here forever. Congrats on your hermit daughter."

"It's what I'm here for," she teases before she goes serious once again. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm good," I reply honestly, only slightly regretting my decision to talk with her. If she's going to be concerned and worried all the time, then I wish I had kept my damn mouth shut.

She still looks slightly unsure, but after several pensive seconds, she bobs her head up and down once. "Okay."

Her fingers brush through the curls resting over my shoulder. "You look beautiful, baby. Ghostly, but beautiful. Come inside! I'm sure everyone has been waiting for us."

Following behind her, I spot Dad resting against the banister, decorated with pumpkin and skull garland. He straightens when he sees me, grinning.

"' Bout time. I thought the creatures of the night got you. Although, on second thought, I'm not too worried. They'd give you back."

"Haha," I deadpan. "Everyone is a comedian tonight. Where's your costume, Dad? You're supposed to dress like something you're _not_, old man."

Dad chuckles, kissing me lightly on the forehead. Through my lashes, I see him exchange a look with Mom, who mouths something to him. He dips his head in acknowledgment, returning his attention to me. "You're ghoulish. I love it."

"Thanks; it was all Alice's doing, though."

"Part of it, maybe."

Placing my hands on my hips, I narrow my eyes. "Are you telling me I look scary in my _normal _everyday look?"

His eyes widen, and he looks from me to Mom with panicked eyes, stepping back toward Jasper's room.

"Are you ready yet, Jasper?"

Mom and I laugh at his discomfort, our giggles growing as he grumbles under his breath, but he doesn't look affronted. In fact, he looks rather amused.

Alice comes twirling out of Jasper's room, the beads of her dress whipping away from her body, and her hair gelled to her head. She's the perfect vision of a flapper girl, exactly matching the women from the nineteen twenties with perfection. I never noticed it before, even her face matches the women from the period.

"The dead are walking amongst us!" she cries out theatrically, her eyes alight with humor.

She seems in much better spirits than she did when she first arrived here; when I saw her standing on the other side of the door, I thought someone had died. She looked so despondent and broken down as if the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders.

Now, she seems a lot lighter and looks like the carefree teenager she should be.

Jasper staggers from his room, his T-shirt and jeans ripped and hanging off his body in tatters. His skin is a greenish-gray, with what appears to be missing chunks of flesh from random parts of his arms, neck, and face. His teeth are covered in a black, gooey substance that churns my stomach as if leaks from his mouth and down his chin.

While I'm a little grossed out, I am very much impressed with Alice's makeup skills.

"Oh, gross!" I say, taking a closer look. "Very cool, though. I like it."

"Me too," he replies, surprisingly coherent for all the liquid flowing from his lips. His eyes are bright, shining with happiness and glee as he stands back, arms outstretched. "I think this is my favorite costume ever!"

He shares a meaningful look with Alice, who shyly smiles and drops her eyes to the ground. Her fingers play with the beads of her dress for a moment, the sound of plastic scraping against plastic loud in the silence of the room.

"Pictures!" Mom calls, fumbling with the camera.

Dad quickly takes it from her, directing us in front of the stairs, so the pumpkins we carved are in the shot. Just as we get in line, a delicate clearing of the throat causes us to turn. Jasper and I gasp in unison as we see Rose standing halfway up, wearing a skin-tight red dress and devil horns on top of her head. Her makeup isn't as grand as ours, but the red eyeshadow and bright red lips against her pale skin and deep blue eyes make her ethereal looking.

It's been so long since Rose dressed up or did something for Halloween; nearly ten years, in fact. She never showed an interest in dressing up, always complaining that Halloween was for children and a waste of time, even when she was a child.

I never let it bother me, though it did upset me that she never wanted to participate in _anything _regarding Halloween. It would have been nice for her to be there with us, enjoying the silliness of the holiday as we collected candy, watched horror movies, and gave out candy.

Now, it appears she's changed her mind.

"Room for one more?"

Alice replies quickly, shooting Jasper and me a questioning look. "Absolutely."

Tautly, she smiles, looking incredibly stiff. Closing her eyes, she breathes deeply, and when she opens her eyes, her expression is softer.

"Thank you."

Stepping in between Jasper and me, she wraps an arm around each of our shoulders, squeezing us to her. We all smile as Dad rapidly snaps picture after picture, per Mom's instruction.

"Why—what made you change your mind?" Jasper questions through smiling lips. "About joining us this year?"

Rose shrugs a shoulder. "I—I'm going to school next year, and I wanted to spend my last Halloween with you two. Even though it's an inane holiday."

Despite her teasing words, we laugh, though the sound is forced. The reminder of her going away is a heavy topic; I know I'll miss her terribly and Jasper even more so. It's going to be hard with her not here. In response, I squeeze her tighter, feeling Jasper do the same on her other side.

"I'll try to make it home as often as possible, though. I promise. I won't be away from you guys forever."

Lightly, I nudge her. "We're gonna hold you to that because if you don't, we'll come to see you, and then you'll be forever embarrassed because we'll come in screaming. Literally. We'll holler your name all over campus, and then you'll want to hole yourself up, never to leave the safety of your room—"

Alice giggles, as Rose's hand covers my mouth, halting my rambling speech. She chuckles, her chest rattling with laughter. "We're not doing that again."

I nod, but just as soon as she removes her hand, I start up again. "Or we'll grow extremely sad and become lifeless shells, having no energy or lust for life. We'll—"

This time, it's Mom who interrupts me. "Bella, you're messing up my pictures! And no talking like that. Of course, Rosalie will come visit us."

"I will," Rose vows with a serious nod, matching her expression perfectly.

"Like I said, we'll hold you to that." Mom still looks displeased, and I playfully huff. "I was just kidding."

Mom shakes her head, fighting a smile. "I swear. Now, a few more pictures, and you can go."

"How did she hear you?" Jasper mumbles, bewildered. "You weren't talking that loud."

I snort. "_Mom _hearing, I guess."

"I guess."

_A few _more pictures ends at eight, and it probably wouldn't have if Dad hadn't put his foot—and the camera—down.

"Okay, we have enough. Let's leave the kids alone so they can enjoy their evening."

Mom pouts, but her displeasure is quickly forgotten as we head toward the door. She kisses each of our cheeks, even Alice's, and bids us goodbye.

"Be careful and safe, okay? If you need anything, don't be afraid to call us, all right?"

Alice places a hand on her arm. "Don't worry. We'll be fine."

For a long moment, Mom simply stares before nodding. "Okay, get going. Remember, you all have a curfew, but we're extending it to eleven, okay? Have fun and stick together!"

In Port Angeles, the streets and sidewalks are packed with most people decked out in costumes. Most of the stores are open, with flashing lights emitting from their windows while store owners and employees hold huge bowls of candy for the little kids trick-or-treating down the block. The closer we get to the haunted house, the busier it seems to be.

"I thought we were eating first," Jasper complains, seeing our destination. Turning around to face us, he pleads. "Aren't you guys hungry?"

Rose's leg bounces as she faces the window, taking in the large crowd of people. After a moment of deliberation, she shakes her head, her gaze meeting Alice's in the rearview mirror.

"The restaurants are going to be so crowded at this time of the night, Jasper. It's better we go to the haunted house and then get something to eat afterward. Besides, what if it's really gory inside? I don't want to throw up what I've eaten."

Alice nods in agreement. "The later it gets, the more people that'll be at the haunted house. Even now, it's pretty packed." She points toward the entrance and Jasper sighs heavily, knowing she's right.

Surprisingly, Alice manages to find a parking spot pretty close to the sidewalk that leads to the front of the attraction. Alice turns her blinker on, accelerating while carefully maneuvering around the people milling about.

"Oh, no, you don't," she mumbles, shifting in the seat as another car comes in from the opposite direction, seeing the empty spot and speeding forward.

Suddenly, Alice stomps on the gas and throttles us back into our seats as she whips into the space. Underneath the terrified shrieks and relieved giggles in the air, the distinct voice of the irate driver screams out into the night.

"You crazy bitch!"

"I had my blinker on!" She hollers out of the window. "Get over it! It's mine!"

The other driver screams more obscenities from his window, shaking his fist at Alice. In response, she unbuckles her seatbelt and lifts herself out of the open window, leaning on the door, shaking a fist in the air.

"Oh, yeah? You want this spot, you'll have to fight me for it and trust me, I'm stronger than I look, asswipe! Yeah, that's right, get lost!" When she pulls herself back into the car, she's all smiles and happiness. "Are we ready to go in?"

Rose's mouth drops open, and she looks at me with wide eyes while I snicker. Alice is certainly a force to be reckoned with.

I chuckle, reaching for Alice's shoulder. "You good?"

"Fine," she chirps. "Let's go."

Rose walks between Jasper and me, her arms brushing ours every now and then. She takes in shaky breaths, scanning the area around us with wide eyes and harsh swallows. Catching me looking, she smiles, but it's forced and tight, not at all relaxed or real.

It makes me wonder what she's worried about, but before I can ask, the question dies on my lips, as I spot three familiar faces waiting for us at the end of the line for the haunted house. I stumble, grabbing onto Rose and Jasper's shoulder as I take in their costumes, laughter tumbling from my lips the longer I stare.

When my eyes rake over the last person, I freeze, my mouth going dry, and my eyes widening.

While Emmett and Paul are dressed ridiculously, a teddy bear, and a baby doll, respectively, Edward is dressed as a vampire. And while the trope is entirely overdone, he's managed to put a twist on it and make it look even better than usual.

His hair is slicked back, with a cobwebbed-covered top hat; his eyes lined with black eyeliner, making his dark gold eyes stand out even more. He's dressed all in black from his silky looking shirt to his black jeans and the black biker boots adorning his feet. To top it all off, a black cape rests on his shoulders, draping down his back like a curtain.

It's when I see Emmett reach for Paul in my periphery that I snap out of my staring and focus on the matter at hand.

The three laughing boys, two of which are hardly able to stand up with how hard they're laughing.

"…scared to death!"

"…probably go home and cry!"

Each of their sentences are broken by their guffaws, which only get worse as they attempt to speak. Jasper chuckles along with them, and I even see Rose fighting a smile as she crosses her arms, her hip cocked out to the side.

Edward remained silent during their broken words, but he laughed just as loudly as they did.

Alice taps her heeled foot against the concrete, a hand planted on her hip. She's trying to be annoyed, but I can tell she's finding this situation just as humorous as the rest of us do. "Are you idiots done? It wasn't even that funny."

"From our end it was," Emmett replies, motioning between the three of them. "You didn't see that guy, sis. He was white as a sheet! All because of you; a teeny, tiny girl."

Once more, they laugh, with Emmett and Paul leaning against each other. Edward stands off to the side, his eyes casting in my direction once before they come immediately back, his mouth dropping open as his gaze drifts down from my head to my feet.

My body heats at his appraisal, even more so once I see him collect himself somewhat and close his mouth, his lips flickering into a grin as his eyes hold a note of mischief I'm not sure I like.

Ignoring him, I turn toward the guys, raising an eyebrow as I nod toward their costumes. "Those are uh … interesting choices, guys."

Emmett and Paul both stand proudly, lifting their chins and stretching their arms to their sides.

"I know! Cool, huh?" Emmett boasts. "Alice and Edward thought we'd look stupid. We're rocking these outfits!"

Paul nods once in agreement. "I'm the hottest doll here. I see you checkin' me out," he says with a wink.

Emmett snickers and whispers something in Paul's ear, his eyes darting to his brother, who glowers at the pair with heavily veiled annoyance. Whatever Emmett says to Paul makes him snort and send me another wink.

"Oh, yeah, I'm really impressed," I tell him, making my voice sound as uninterested as possible. "I must have you now."

"Are we ready now?" Alice asks, breaking into the conversation. "I wanna go in!"

We all nod and start for the front of the building. Alice, Jasper, and Paul take the lead, followed by Edward and me, with Rose and Emmett in the back. Quietly, the pair begins to converse in a soft tone. Emmett holds Rose's arm, his fingers gently sweeping up and down her forearm as he leans in toward her, whispering. Fierce and determined, he murmurs something only she can hear. When she catches me looking, I quickly whip around and count to ten in my head before again looking over my shoulder.

Whatever he's said to her makes her nod, and they start catching up to us. Emmett stares at Rose's somber face before he lights up. Suddenly, he starts hopping around her like a bunny, making goofy faces and sounds. Rose tries to look disinterested as he flexes his arms and squishing his cheeks in a silly attempt to make her laugh.

Silly attempt or not, it eventually works.

More radiant than I've ever seen, Rose smiles ... and it's not fake or forced. The lightness of her carefree grin carries up into her eyes, making them sparkle as she laughs, her cheeks pink as she shakes her head.

"You're something else," she says, rolling her eyes and turning her face away.

The words don't sound like a compliment. In fact, they sound rather rude, but they don't match the amusement she's sporting. Emmett's joyful expression doesn't fade because he can see her face clearly through her hair.

Looking between the two of them, I see definite chemistry there, and I wonder if they're merely flirting or if they've finally admitted they liked each other. It's too hard to tell from this standpoint since their conversation is just coming off as Emmett's regular, flirty banter.

I think back to them holding hands in Port Angeles a couple of weeks ago, and coupled with Rose's smitten stares at his behavior, I'm going to say they're definitely together ... but I don't want theories.

I want _facts. _

My curiosity is boiling, prodding me to take her aside and ask her a series of in-depth questions to get concrete answers.

I'm tempted to do it but now isn't the time.

Focusing forward once more, I step in the line behind Alice and Jasper, briefly wondering where Paul ran off to, but all thoughts about him are forgotten as I spot Edward in my periphery, standing next to me, his head tilted to the right as he stares. He looks amazed and a little startled as if he can't believe it's me.

I meet his eyes and raise a questioning eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. When it's obvious he's not going to, I sigh heavily and shake my head.

"What?"

"Nothing," I remark with false solemnity in my tone. "I'm just disappointed. I thought you'd be something different, instead of being the same old thing." I sigh once more, fighting a smile as he goes blank, his expression pensively guarded.

He lifts his chin, peering down through slightly narrowed eyes. "How am I the same _old thing_?" He questions with a hint of irritation, waving a hand up and down his body. "I haven't seen one person dressed as a vampire, _and _I'm _not _dressed like a typical vampire. In all my years, I haven't seen many vampires with eyeliner or a hat like this. The only thing that's a cliché is the cape, but it's a classic."

"I agree, but I wasn't talking about your outfit."

Once more, his head tilts. "Then _what _are you talking about?"

"Your brooding, angsty staring that you were doing. You do that _all the time, _and it's been done in every vampire movie ever made. The vampire hides in the shadows, stalking and staring after his intended victim like a creep. Just once, I'd like to see something different. Right about now would be good too," I reply with narrowed eyes, pointing at him. "Take a picture, why don't you?"

He hums, his eyes drifting upward as he taps his finger against his chin. After a moment of pensive reflection, he does a combination of a nod and a shrug, reaching into his jeans and pulling out his phone. When he holds it toward me, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side. His cheek rests against the top of my head and his finger poised over the screen. Moments later, I hear the familiar _click _of the device taking our picture.

"Why did you do that for?"

"What?" he questions, innocence plastered on his face. "You said to take a picture."

"I wasn't being literal, jerk," I mutter, fighting the urge to smile. I hate to admit it, but I would have done the same thing had someone said that to me. Depending on who it was, of course.

"For your information, I wasn't brooding and _angsty _as you call it. I was staring because I was simply amazed at how you looked."

"It was all Alice," I mutter, relishing in the cool breeze soothing my suddenly heated skin.

"I know. I'm astounded she made you look so much better than normal. Can she give you a better personality too?"

I plaster a saccharine smile on my face. "I don't know. When you ask her, see if she can remove the stick from your ass."

"That's my father's area, actually."

My shoulders start to shake with laughter.

"I have an idea," he continues, his eyes shining with amusement. "We'll get a joint appointment. I'll remove the stick, and you can get a heart, since you don't have one."

Whipping my head in his direction, I make a face at his delighted expression. "That's a good one, Edward. I owe you a drink for that … and I absolutely won't lace it with holy water."

Chuckling, he nudges my arm with his own. "I'm just kidding. Kind of."

I release a fake laugh, holding my belly before straightening. "You're hilarious," I sarcastically droll with a straight face. "You know, you look better than you normally look, too. The eyeliner actually makes it more pleasurable to set my eyes upon you."

One side of his lip rises in a smirk. "Really? Can't take your eyes off of me, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself. The eyeliner only _marginally _makes you better looking. Without it, you'd just be, _eh._"

Unexpectedly, a growling roar fills the air as someone in a furry costume jumps from behind us. Their hands—or paws—outstretched and pretending to swipe at Jasper and me.

Jasper shrieks as Rose pushes me behind her and grabs hold of Jasper's shirt, yanking him back with me.

At my side, Edward snickers in mirth but, at the same time, throws an arm across my stomach, his fingers curling around my hip as he maneuvers me into his side. Unthinkingly, I grab ahold of his arm tightly, squeezing him to me even tighter.

Edward looks at me, concerned, but the look quickly fades as he smiles, his fingers rubbing comforting circles into my hip. Now consciously aware of our position, I loosen my grip but don't remove my hold, instead looking down at his hand pointedly.

Returning the gesture, he looks down at my hand with a smirk. I shrug and slowly move my hands away, gently pushing him with a light laugh.

"Don't read too much into it. You were just there," I lowly tell him.

He nods slowly. "Sure. Lie to yourself. I know the truth," he says with a wink.

The retort is on my tongue, but it's all forgotten as Rose charges for the person in the costume, her hands balled into fists, ready to strike. It's only when the masked attacker puts his hands up in surrender and shoves the giant head off that her hands fall back down at her sides.

"Jake?"

He beams, jumping once with a hearty laugh. From behind him, Leah walks up, perfectly dressed as Red Riding Hood, to match Jake's wolf. Worried, her gaze shifts between Rose and Jake, her hand outstretched toward her boyfriend.

"Happy Halloween! I really got you guys, huh?" Jake proudly boasts. "I knew this costume was a good choice!"

"Not funny," Rose fumes.

"Aw, come on. It's hilarious!"

Leah pulls down on his shoulder, furiously whispering in his ear. Seconds later, his eyes widen, and he's rushing toward Rose and me with his hands outstretched.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think," he rushes out. "Are you okay?"

"I'm pissed, but I'm fine. You know, you're supposed to be something other than what you really are on Halloween, don't you?" She questions, much like I did of Edward earlier.

Pointedly, I nudge Edward, who hasn't moved from my side. He rolls his eyes with a shake of his head, but I can see the small curl of his lips as he smirks.

Jake exchanges a quick, confused glance with Leah before turning back to Rose. "What do you mean?"

"You're supposed to be something other than yourself," she repeats slowly, her face flickering with amusement. "You animal."

Our small group erupts in laughter, Leah's being the loudest. "She gotcha, babe."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, good-naturedly. "We good?"

Squaring her shoulders and unblinkingly, she replies, "I'm tougher than I look."

Jake nods slowly, pride shining through his features. "Yeah, you are."

"Do you have a leash, Leah?" I ask to get the joking atmosphere back before the heavy feeling starting to swim around us can take hold. "Dogs aren't supposed to run loose."

Leah pats the small fabric basket hanging off her wrist. Belatedly, I realize it's a purse made to look like a wooden basket. "Right here. I never leave home without it."

More chuckles erupt before we head into line. Due to the number of people, my 'speedy pass' doesn't get us as far ahead as I'd like, but still, it's better than nothing. In our little group, we excitedly chatter about the reviews this place received. Apparently, it's the spookiest attraction in the whole area, leaving the handful of others in the dust.

Alice reads the reviews from her phone, not even flinching as the actors that stand outside come up and growl at her. She merely looks at them, unimpressed before continuing her reading. Every once else isn't so lucky, and I even admit I'm caught off guard as someone stands behind me in a skeleton mask with glowing neon yellow eyes.

Amused, Edward stands by rocking on his heels as he watches me catch my breath, though I do see something else underneath the humor in his eyes. I can't place it, but if I had to take a guess, he almost looks upset.

"What?"

"Nothing," Edward replies, all traces of distress gone. "I hope you can handle what's inside."

"I handle you pretty well, don't I?"

"Eh, you're okay."

"Where's Paul?" Jasper asks, looking around as we near the door. "Doesn't he want to go in with us?"

Leah waves away his concern with a dismissive hand, not bothering to look for him. "If I know him at all, he's off somewhere trying to get lucky. Just leave him to it, he needs to learn the hard way that he's not as special as he thinks he is."

"I don't know if I wanna go in," Emmett admits, wincing as the sound of terrified shrieking filling the air. "There's only so much I can take … and if they have bugs in there?" He trails off with a shudder, his form screwing up in disgust. "Ugh. I'll freak right out. I hate bugs."

"Me too, dude," Jake agrees with one nod and a shiver. "Me too."

"Wanna do something else?" Rose offers, ignoring me as I try to catch her attention. "I'll go with you."

Emmett ponders this for a moment, before shaking his head. "Nah, we'll try it. If it gets to be too much, then I'll leave."

"I'm kind of surprised you'd admit to being scared," Jasper muses. "I figured you'd be macho or something."

"A real man admits what he can and cannot handle," Emmett says, puffing out his chest.

While they talk about Emmett's bravado, I pull Rose aside. "If you don't want to go in, you don't have to. We can meet you on the other side."

Rose shakes her head before I'm done, trying to keep attention on me and not on the rambunctious crowd around us. "No, I don't want to be alone out here; I'm good. I promise."

Once we're finally inside, the light atmosphere we had outside is replaced by quiet tension as the door slams closed behind us with a loud click. A sinister chuckle reverberates throughout the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"Now, you're mine," a deep snarling voice says. "No going back."

I jump, my throat seizing, and my heart pounding away in my chest. Next to me, Edward's arm brushes against mine. Surprisingly, his pinky finger curls around mine. He moves close to me, and as a result, our joined hands brush the side of his hip. He makes no move to change our position, as if he doesn't notice or he simply doesn't care.

"Are you okay?" he inquires, his lips faintly touching the shell of my ear. I shiver lightly in response, trying to control the thundering of my heart by taking calm and even breaths. "You can hold my hand if you'd like."

"Is that a cover for you? Offering for _me _to hold _your _hand when, in reality, _you're _the scared one here?" I reply, hoping to gain some control back.

Edward pulls back, focusing on a random spot on the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mm-hmm."

He says nothing more and it doesn't escape my attention that he doesn't move from my side as we amble slowly forward.

This first section of the attraction is quiet and dark, eerily lit with flameless candles in groups of five in each of the corners on tables that have seen better days.

The walls are splattered with dried blood and handprints smeared in the red liquid, spelling out the words "go back" in shaky scrawl. On the floor lies several body parts and two bodies, one of which jerks awake with a gasping breath, clawing at the floor by our feet.

"Help me, please!" the man cries, his voice broken as blood bubbles from his lips. "Help … you shouldn't go in! He'll kill you!"

The sight of him gurgling on blood has my stomach churning and a humorless chuckle bursting through my lips. The makeup effects were so realistic-looking that if I didn't know any better, I would swear it _was _real blood.

Out of the corner of my eye, the Cullens stiffen and look around wildly, their nostrils flaring, and eyes narrowed. Jake and Leah look rigid as well, their faces set in stony, angry masks. Gently, I nudge Edward and incline my head, silently asking him what's happening.

He shakes his head, forcing a smile on his face, looking forward as Jasper shrieks, jumping backward, holding a hand over his heart, but laughing at the same time. His reaction to the actor on the floor has me pressing my lips together in an effort to keep the laughter back. I reach for him in support, seeing Rose doing the same.

"You okay?" she asks, her body stiff and her eyes casting around, looking for a way out.

"Yeah, I'm good," he replies with a heavy breath. "I could have sworn they were a fake! I saw the other one moving, so I thought that was the real person."

"I thought they were fake too," Alice offers. "They got me."

To me, Alice didn't look scared. In fact, she looked rather pissed off, which makes me extremely curious. Did she not think the act was scary or is something else going on here?

My stomach tightens at the thought, my eyes surveying the area closely. Nothing looks suspicious or out of place, not that I can see. Haunted house attractions are supposed to be mysterious and misleading, which doesn't help my nerves settle at all.

Up ahead, Jasper's face tilts downward toward the floor, gazing through the piece of rotten flesh hanging over his eye. He leans toward Alice, murmuring something too low for me to hear, but whatever is said, she's receptive to it, as she nods and they continue forward, after Jake.

Leah, surprisingly, is missing.

"Where's Leah?" I question Jake. Edward hangs back, allowing Jake and me to talk.

Forcefully smiling, he waves a hand. "She felt sick after that last scare. She'll be fine, though; her stomach is pretty weak these days."

This, I find hard to believe. For years, Leah has been able to eat just as much, if not more, than the rest of the guys in La Push. I don't know how she eats all that food without being sick; just looking at how much they eat makes me ill.

"Really?" I question. "When did this start? Because a couple of months ago, she was eating just fine."

Jake pales, and a hand goes to the back of his neck as he stares at the ground. Suddenly, the dots connect.

He's been extremely watchful over her lately, more so than usual. lately. He's been extra attentive and looks as if he's going to swoop in and carry her off somewhere.

I have to wonder if she's pregnant … and from the wide-eyed pleading look on his face, I'd say my guess is correct.

"Is she …?"

"You can't say anything," he rushes out, gripping my arm in an almost painful hold.

I hiss, and he immediately releases me, raising his hands in the air. His eyes are apologetic as he glances from me to Edward, who again has come to stand close to me. In my peripheral vision, I see him glaring, his lips pressed in a thin line. The look vanishes into a blank mask, however, as I look at him fully.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just … a wreck with this. Please don't say anything, okay? Please? We haven't told our parents yet."

I place a hand on his shoulder. "Relax; I won't say anything. Just … are you happy?"

Worry is replaced with a bright, beaming smile. "Yeah. It happened sooner than we wanted, but I'm happy. We're happy."

Pulling him into a tight hug, I squeeze him as hard as I can. "Well, congrats!"

"Thanks," he replies with a laugh.

Rose turns to look back at us, her eyebrow quirked in question. "What's going on? What happened?"

"Nothing," I reply. "We were just talking about the attraction."

She opens her mouth to retort, but Emmett steps up to her side, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She nods at what he tells her, peering back over her shoulder to glance at us.

"Come on. We're lagging behind."

In a staggering pattern, we make our way to the next room where a tall figure in a robe and half a face pops out, chuckling darkly. Most of us jump, with the others standing rigidly by.

"You didn't heed the warnings," he tells us, his voice low and gravelly. "You're either very brave or very naïve to continue in my house of horror. I wonder, which one of you will be the first to die? You can choose the same path or a different one when you reach the center of the house; each path you take will alter your future. Enter, and find your fate."

Waving us through to the next room with an evil chuckle, he disappears just as quickly as he came. But he's long forgotten as we enter the dimly lit, fogged-filled room. Rose blindly reaches for Emmett's arm as an actor comes jumping out of the fog with an ear-splitting screech.

In response, Emmett wraps an arm around Rose's shoulders, tucking her into his side. In front of them, I notice Alice and Jasper standing awfully close together, without hardly an inch of space between their arms. Jake seems unfazed as he continues bravely forward.

Edward walks stoically beside me, not even flinching as an animatronic pops out of the fog. He merely rolls his eyes and sighs, shaking his head with an annoyed expression.

In the dim, purple light, Edward's face holds an alarmingly ethereal glow that causes my breath to stutter and my mouth to go dry. Not only does the lighting making him inhuman, it also gives him an intense look of danger, radiating from every pore. From his dark eyes framed in black eyeliner, to the hard set of his square jaw and the stiff way he's holding his shoulders, he looks every bit the dangerous creature he's dressed as.

A part of me is slightly unnerved by this, wondering how he can achieve such a look with minimal effort; does it just come naturally to him, or is it the makeup?

I've seen him look dangerous and deadly twice before; once when Royce had attacked us, and he was standing in front of me, having just come in from nowhere, pushing the scum away from me. The second was that same night in the aftermath when he had been glaring at the stranger in the crowd.

I highly doubt he had been wearing makeup then, so why does he have the same look now? Does he think of this place as unsafe and dangerous? Or does he only have one facial expression, and he's simply annoyed at being here?

"Not to your standards, I presume?" I have to raise my voice and lean toward him against the slow increase of screams, wicked cackles, and the revving of chainsaws the further we head into the 'house.'

He lifts a single shoulder, seemingly unimpressed. "It's all right. I've been to better. We've just started, though, so I'll save my thoughts and opinions for the end."

"Very noble of you."

Flashing a grin, his fang tooth looking a little longer and more discolored than his other pearly whites. I'm confused for a moment until I realize he's added fangs, something that's needed but still highly amusing just the same.

"It's the least I can do. Besides, it's more amusing to watch you get scared."

"I do not get _scared. _Startled, maybe. But never scared."

"Are you guys coming or what?" Rose asks, stopping in the doorway of the next room. Rose gazes between the two of us, amusement clear on her face. Before I can ask her anything, a loud shout followed by the clanging of metal against metal makes Rose jump and mutter a curse.

Quickening our steps, we meander through a dining hall, where all of the table's occupants are dead and lifeless, save for one, who struggles against the constraints on her wrists as she pleads with us to help her. On the table sit plates with half-eaten food, plastic rats, and roaches that I can't tell are real or not, due to the flashing lights coming from the next room.

"Oh, gross!" Jake exclaims, pointing to the table and rushing out of the room.

Emmett, following where he pointed, makes a face as he shouts, "Oh, hell no!" and follows after Jake. In the next room, a demented butcher hacks at his victim on the butcher block, revealing a gory scene of blood and guts splattering out onto the wooden table.

My stomach rolls at the sight and I hastily look away, finding Rose looking a little green as the scene unfolds.

Rose gags, clamping a hand over her mouth and nose as she turns away, her eyes squeezed shut. Emmett reaches for her, but she bolts out of the room, past Jake, who goes after her.

In her haste to leave, she knocks into Jasper, looking just as nauseated as his sister. He staggers and bumps into Alice, immediately hissing out in pain. Edward's eyes widen, and he sucks in a harsh breath before he darts forward, his hands slipping under Alice's arms, seemingly supporting her weight.

Jasper stammers out an apology, his hands outstretched toward her. Edward ignores Jasper, whispering to Alice as she stands, unresponsive.

I approach them slowly, exchanging a quick look with Jasper. He swallows thickly, rubbing his right arm tenderly, a look of repentance heavy in his eyes.

Suddenly, Alice jerks just as a shrill scream emits from somewhere in the room. She dashes forward through the black curtain hanging in the doorway, leaving us all behind. Edward starts after her, but pauses in the doorway, waving us ahead with an impatient hand.

I start to follow but stop when I realize Jasper is not next to me. He's rooted in place, a pensive expression plastered on his face as he stares at the area Alice had been standing. In front of him, I wave a hand in front of his face, calling his name.

"Jasper!"

Jumping, he blinks rapidly, looking over my shoulder before meeting my eyes with his frantic suspicious ones. "Bella, do you think I hurt her?"

"I think she's okay. She's stronger than she looks."

He ponders this for a moment, trailing off in a heavy sigh and rubbing a hand over his arm. He scowls a moment later, feeling the rubber latex pull at his skin.

"Come on," he says, grabbing my wrist, pulling me in the direction Alice and Edward had disappeared to.

However, we pause once we pass through the curtain, and I freeze at the sight before me: two doorways, framed with white tattered curtains, splattered in red liquid. The words of the man with half a face comes back to me, recalling he said there were two paths to take. Surmising this must be it, I curse myself for lagging behind and not knowing which way the others went.

"Which way did they go?" Jasper questions, looking between the two options.

"I don't know."

Blowing out a breath, he chooses the left doorway, lifting the curtain and waiting for me to pass through. I do so very slowly, casting my gaze around the room with a close eye. It's useless, however. Like the previous rooms, it's too dimly lit to see much of anything, and with the fog hanging heavily around our feet, it creates an extra layer of obscurity.

Following closely behind Jasper, I keep my eyes forward, noting more gory sights on the tables as the fog disperses from our movement. I jump as a section of the wall falls away, and a masked face pops out, reaching for me.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I blink rapidly against the brightness of the next room, seeing nothing but bright neon colors against black.

Once my bearings are back, I wobble forward, bumping into Jasper every now and then. He doesn't complain, as he's walking just as badly as I am.

All of a sudden, apprehension crashes over me, sending my heart into my throat. My hands shake as my breathing comes in short, unsteady bursts. The skin on the back of my neck tightens and pebbles, the base throbbing in time with my pounding heart.

Every instinct within me is telling me to run as fast as I can, and I listen to it.

Reaching for Jasper, I grip his arm tightly. "We need to leave. Now."

Wordlessly, he nods, and we speed walk toward the far side of the room with great difficulty.

The dizzying effect, coupled with the nauseatingly bright colors, makes my stomach roll and walking near impossible. Closing my eyes, I allow Jasper to lead us out, stumbling as he jerks from a loud yell from one of the actors.

I pay it no mind, focusing on keeping down the meager contents of my stomach. down.

Once I feel I have my sickness under control, I open my eyes again, seeing we're in a different room now, the lights flashing in a strobe effect. The feeling from the previous room intensifies, and I push on Jasper's shoulder, silently urging him to hurry.

He does so without question, pulling me along.

Just as we cross the threshold into the next room, a person lunges out at us, falling into Jasper's chest. Her hair is rumpled and messy, her clothes torn and stained deeply with blood. He lurches away, and the girl falls into me, her face pale and wet, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her hands tightly grip the front of my dress, and immediately I feel something warm and wet seeping into my skin. Taking a closer look, I see her features are very familiar.

It's Jess.

"Pl-Please," she begs, her voice hoarse and coming out in broken gasps. "Pl-Please h-help me. He tri-tried t-t-o … h-he tri-tried t-t-to ki-kill m-me. S-some-something d-dug in-into m-my n-neck …"

As soon as the words leave her, I look at her neck and balk at the sight of a deep gash with blood gushing from the wound.

"You're not supposed to touch the customers," Jasper complains, now angry.

Carefully, I lower us to the floor and hold her tightly, using one hand to rip a section of her costume off and bunch the fabric on her neck. Immediately, the blood soaks through, the warm liquid spilling onto my hand. My other hand shoots out toward Jasper. "Give me your shirt."

"Bella—"

"Jasper, it's Jess! She's hurt! This isn't part of the attraction!"

With wide eyes, he whips his shirt off and thrusts it in my hands, shouting for help as I place gentle pressure against her neck, feeling my hands shaking violently. She cries, still holding onto me for dear life while I try to rein in my own emotions.

Swallowing thickly and clearing my throat, I try to make my voice as soothing as possible, in a hopeful effort to make her calm, so maybe she won't bleed as much.

"There's no one coming," Jasper says, frustrated. "There was somebody in the previous room, though. I'm gonna go and get them to help."

I'm shaking my head before he's done, wishing I had another hand to grab him. "No, Jasper."

"I'll be back, I promise!"

Rushing from the room, he leaves us alone, and once more, I swallow thickly, feeling unnerved as the feeling increases tenfold. Jess is still now, and for a moment I think she's dead. It's only when I feel the shallow rise and fall of her chest that I relax slightly. I surmise she must have passed out from blood loss, and I wonder what is taking Jasper so long.

"It's gonna be okay," I whisper to Jess, wishing I felt as confident as the words I'm speaking. mean.

A profound, malicious chuckle erupts in the silence, making my hair stand on end, and my heart roar in my chest. On the far side of the room, I see movement and freeze as two glittering, ruby eyes emerge from the darkness.

"Will it be okay?" a familiar voice with a French accent coo.

Laurent.

"It wasn't okay for her. Or for the two others I killed in here. Do you know how many people walked by them, thinking they were a prop or an actor? You included."

"Why are you doing this?"

He shrugs. "It's fun. It was fun playing with the boy … Ronald? Roy? Royce?" he shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand through the air. "Makes no difference. He was a disappointment. He was doing too many drugs to be useful to me," he says in broken English. "The girl he was with? Lauren? Even more of a disappointment. I thought she had potential; after all, she listened to the boy very well, so I thought it would be the same as me. She was so vicious and evil. I thought she would be a good asset, a good _companion _for me. Alas, I knew once she woke up, I couldn't keep her. She didn't listen at all. She wanted to do her own thing, her own way, and she was so mouthy. She wasn't too much of a letdown, though. It was fun to torture her."

I swallow thickly, my heartbeat thundering in my ears at what he's told me about Royce and the past tense use in regards to Lauren. She wasn't my favorite person in the slightest, but she didn't deserve to die.

"What did you do to her? Did you kill her?"

He laughs deeply and sinisterly, the sound making me shake. "You should be more concerned about _you._"

Weighing my options, I ponder what to do. I can't scream because it'll be useless to do so here. I can't run away; I won't leave Jess to this sicko's mercy. Knowing I have no options, I remain where I am, trying to think of something to do to fight off this guy and get both of us safely away.

Laurent steps forward, his face more sinister in the flashing lights of the room. His smile is predatory as he watches me, stalking closer inch by inch. He crouches, ready to pounce on me. I close my eyes in preparation, the breath escaping me as he lands on me, heavy as a boulder.

I scream out as his hand comes swiping down, my skin immediately warming as blood seeps from the wound. He chuckles darkly, leaning toward me, and I squeeze my eyes closed, preparing myself for further pain.

… But suddenly, the weight of him is gone.

Two figures tackle him to the ground, shoving him toward the far side of the room, farthest away from me with an ear-piercing roar. Pulling Jess back into my arms, I reapply pressure to her wound and huddle into the corner, watching with unblinking eyes.

Deafening growls explode into the air, making me wince as the loud sounds dull my hearing, replacing it with a keening buzz. My head pulses, but I keep my eyes open, trying to make out the two figures circling around Laurent. It's impossible to see them due to the flashing strobe lights, and the black cloaks adorning their bodies.

Briefly, I think I see a flash of familiar bronze, but the figure moves too fast for me to be sure.

Hissed words are exchanged as Laurent chuckles at something, prompting one of the cloaked people to charge at him, the pair of them smashing through the thin wall. The second person rushes after them, leaving me alone in the room once more.

One of the cloaked figures steps out from the hole in the air and stares, their hood and the darkness around us, creating a perfect disguise.

Despite everything that happened here, I'm not terrified of this stranger. For some reason, I feel oddly safe and comforted, like I'm not in danger.

Even though I strangely feel like I can trust this person, I don't want them coming any closer.

Behind them, the other cloaked figure steps out, red curls hanging out of the front. The red-haired stranger tugs on the other's arm, leaning close as they whisper something.

The first cloaked figure shakes their head, keeping their gaze on me.

Words are being exchanged, but it's all muffled as if I'm underwater.

The good news, however, is that things _are _becoming clearer now that everything has quieted.

"—Toria! Leave me alone," the first figure grinds out, jerking out of their grasp.

I flinch at the sight, swallowing past the lump in my throat, intent on focusing on something else.

Like who these people are.

Unfortunately, the voices are too low for me to make out who they are, something that pisses me off greatly.

"We have to go. Now."

A long beat passes before both figures turn and disappear, leaving me alone with Jess.

Seconds later, the lights in the room turn on and muffled groans of disappointment can be heard from some distance.

Jasper and another person in makeup come running in, the former falling on his knees next to me, his eyes widen as he looks between Jess and me.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"Is she …?"

"No. It's close, though. She needs an ambulance," I snap at the employee, who has whipped off the silicone mask covering part of his face.

"Jesus," he breathes, his olive complexion going pale as he takes in the scene in front of him. Rifling through his pockets, he pulls out a walkie-talkie, his tone shaky and broken as he speaks. "Area Four, we need an ambulance, now!"

8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Thirty minutes later, Rose and Jasper flank my sides. Rose has an arm around my shoulders while Jasper rubs soothing circles on my back. They each try to talk to me, but their voices blur together in a warbling wave of noise I can't make out no matter how hard I try.

Moments ago, I had given my statement to the police, my voice sounding detached even to my own ears. I can't help it, though.

All I can see is Jess, bleeding heavily from a deep gash on her neck, and the words of the EMT repeating in my ears.

"_Might not make it. Too much blood loss." _

With everything in me, I wish they're wrong. I _hope _they're wrong.

She has to be okay.

Jess is a good person, having gone through too much to be in this situation. She deserves to be happy and healthy, living her best life.

She doesn't deserve to die, not like this.

She _has_ to be okay.

"Bella?" Rose softly says, rubbing my shoulder with firm but gentle hand. When I don't respond, she says my name more firmly, angling her face into my blurry line of vision.

It's then I notice that I'm crying, obscuring my view and making it difficult to breathe. Taking a deep breath, I wipe my face and clear my throat a few times, collecting myself.

"What?"

"Are you o—ready to go?" She continues, worriedly. Her hands brush over my hair, and she squeezes my hand as she speaks. "Uncle Charlie is here to take us home. We'll get you cleaned up and stuff our faces with candy as we watch movies, okay? We'll have a mindless night of entertainment."

"Yeah, we'll have a good time," Jasper inputs, rubbing my back.

For a moment, I'm confused as to why I need to get cleaned up. Sure, I have makeup on, but it won't take that long to remove with the makeup remover wipes I have in my drawer.

Looking down, I immediately see what she's referring to.

Blood.

I'm covered in blood.

Mine and Jess's, I know, mixed together. The bandage covering the top of my shoulder to the start of my chest sits white and pristine, covered in tape. There are faint pink spots on the gauze, but it's not as bad as it had been at the start.

It had taken a while for the wound to clot, but luckily it did. I was fortunate the EMT had told me as he patched me up; the knife wound wasn't that deep and didn't hit any arteries or organs.

If I had, I would be dead.

I wasn't too sure there _had _been a knife; I don't recall seeing anything shimmering in the darkness, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. I know I had braced myself for his attack, not wanting to see it coming. I could have missed it because I definitely felt _something _sharp pierce my body.

Nodding vigorously and wanting nothing more than to be at home, I allow Rose to lead me to Dad's car, my feet clumsily stumbling together. Thankfully, Rose and Jasper keep me upright, ushering me forward.

Edward steps into our path before we can make it, his eyes focused on mine his hand twitches toward me, but it falls heavily back at his side.

"How are you?"

"She's fine," Rose answers for me, a bit brusquely.

Edward pays her no mind, keeping his attention on me. I can't find the words to speak, so I simply nod once, the motion jerky and unbelievable.

Alice trails after him, giving me a sad smile and stepping forward as if she's going to hug me, but instead grabs my hand at the last moment, squeezing once.

"You're gonna be okay," she tells me, confidence oozing from every word, despite the sadness drenched in her features.

From the corner of my eye, I see Rose smile in relief, hugging me to her side a little more firmly.

"I'm not important," I murmur. "Jess is …"

"She'll be fine, too," Alice interrupts. "Trust me."

"While I agree being confident is good," Jasper begins hesitantly, "We can't know for sure. It doesn't look good."

Alice nods once, but her confidence never wavers, though apprehension does start to creep up the longer this conversation continues. "You're right, but she'll pull through. It'll be a while, but she will."

"How do you—"

"Jasper, Jess needs only _positive _thoughts right now," Rose interrupts. "Let's keep it at that."

"How are you, really?" Edward questions, his hands settling on my shoulders.

Lightly, I flinch but allow myself to relax as I lean into him, feeling that odd sense of comfort and safety once more.

"I'll be fine," I reply hollowly, giving him a barely-there smile. "I'll survive."

Resolutely, he nods. "You will."

It feels as if he wants to say something more, but nothing ever comes. He simply stares unblinkingly at me, his fingers soothingly gliding against the top of my shoulders.

At my sides, Rose and Jasper both shift, casting Edward uncomfortable and suspicious glances. Edward makes no move to acknowledge them, however. He keeps his focus on me.

"We need to go," Rose says, gently pulling me back. "Bella needs to get cleaned up and be at home."

Edward and Alice both nod once, stepping to the side, revealing Emmett waiting a couple of feet back, watching us with concerned and rapt attention. He gives me an anxious half-smile, shifting his intent stare to Rose.

She gazes back, keeping her eyes locked on him as we walk away, while Jasper looks between both Cullen brothers with wariness as they stalk off.

Once we're close enough, Dad immediately pulls me into a tight hug, being mindful of my injury. He starts to speak but stops himself as he looks at my face. Sighing lightly, he places a kiss on my forehead and takes Rose's place at my side.

Like Rose, he brushes my hair back behind my ears and squeezes me into his side.

"Come on, baby girl. Let's go home."

"No, Dad. The guy mentioned Lauren," I ramble out, ignoring the shocked gasps of my cousins. "I think he hurt her or killed her. You have to check up on her."

He nods, still trying to usher me away, but I resist. "And the two people that helped me … where are they? _Who _are they? I should thank them, right? Yeah, I should."

"I don't know, baby. I'll look into it and let you know, okay? Let's go now."

"Where's Mom?"

He looks at something over my shoulder but guides me toward the car before I turn to look.

"She's … with Dr. Cullen's nurse. She's trying to get him to and come see you. She doesn't trust anyone else."

Dad escorts me to the passenger side of his cruiser, and just before I get in, I spot Edward and his siblings, along with Leah standing in a tight group, talking and gesturing wildly.

The displeased and heated expressions on their faces tell me it isn't a pleasant conversation. Edward looks the most irate, standing tall with a rigid back, his lips pinched together, and eyes narrowed as speaks with Alice, his lips hardly moving as he hisses something at her.

Alice, annoyed and furious, stands on the tips of her toes and shouts at him, her hands balled into fists. One hand uncurls and pokes his chest with each word uttered. Unfazed by her outburst, Edward leans toward her, his own hands balled into fists at his sides as he retorts.

Emmett and Leah both step forward, pushing Edward back. Leah immediately takes Alice into her arms as my friend covers her face, her shoulders shaking as she sobs.

My heart lurches for her, wanting to comfort her and ask what the hell is Edward's problem. When his attention directs to me, I pause, confused, as I clearly see the trouble and agony shining in his eyes.

A thousand questions bubble up in my throat, dying to come out and satisfy my curiosity. The main one being, why is he staring at me like that? Is he worried about me? Or is he concerned about the fight he's having with sister?

Knowing how close they are, I figure that must be it and slide into the passenger seat, hearing Jasper mumble something under his breath. I only pick out Alice's name, knowing he's looking in the same direction I am.

Outside, Dad exchanges muffled words with Jasper and Rose, but I pay them no mind, keeping my attention on Edward and the others at the end of the street.

From around the corner, two more people join them, and immediately, I recognize them too.

It's the couple I had seen following the Cullens in the street, the same man that had intercepted Laurent the first time I had been trapped by him.

I suck in a breath, my body poised to run out, but the feeling dies just as quickly as it comes as I watch the duo come to stand next to Alice. The man with long, blond hair tied back with a leather strap places a hand on Alice's shoulder, pulling her into a hug, glaring at Edward over her head.

Edward rolls his eyes and looks away, shaking his head with annoyance. The woman with flaming red hair smacks the back of his head, wagging a finger in his face. Whatever she tells him has his agitation fading and his head hanging in shame.

Turning toward his sister, he holds his arms out to her, and she runs into his hug, squeezing him tightly. The red-haired woman ruffles his hair with a gleeful grin, ignoring his glare.

The car starts, the engine loud and roaring to my ears, and I jump, hurdling back, the armrest on the door digging into my spine. Dad reaches for me but lets his hands drop, palm side up.

"It's okay, Bella. It's just us."

In the backseat, Rose smiles tensely, sliding a hand over my shoulder and squeezing once. Jasper pats my other shoulder with a heavy hand, his attention focused on the Cullens down the block.

Returning the smile half-heartedly and taking a deep breath, I remind myself of where I am, and who I'm with. I know I'm safe; I can't explain it, but I _know _I'm okay or will be, at least.

Facing forward, I focus my attention out of the window as we pass by our friends. Alice is still standing in between Edward and the blond man, her face blank and eyes closed, her stance stiff. Everyone else is staring at her unblinkingly, frozen and waiting.

The red-haired woman, I notice, leans against Edward's side, her focus intently on Alice with rapt interest.

For some strange reason, my stomach clenches and rolls, my vision swirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope of stomach-turning color. Closing my eyes, I focus on the gentle hum of the motor and push everything else out, hoping to get some peace of mind, just for a moment.

All the way home, Jasper and Rose talk in quiet murmurs, their tone going from gentle and inquisitive to harsh and hissing.

"She was hurt, Rosalie. Didn't you see her?" Jasper hisses. "Alice was super upset, and Edward looked pissed. And where was Emmett? You seemed awfully close to him tonight. Aren't you curious about him? Don't you want to know what happened? And what about Jake and Paul?"

"My relationship with Emmett is none of your business."

"Your _relationship_? Now the two of you have a relationship, huh? Funny, how it wasn't mentioned before, and you don't seem to care what happened to him."

"Let it go, Jasper," Rose snaps, her tone unforgiving. "Maybe they had a family emergency. Maybe they were looking for Paul. We don't know."

"Exactly. _We don't know. _We should see if they're okay."

"And we will. We'll call them tomorrow," she replies, her words final.

"Bella—"

"Knock it off," Dad interjects, staring at Jasper through the rearview mirror. "Call them tomorrow."

Nothing more is said on the matter, though I can tell Jasper hasn't let the issue go. Through the side mirror, I watch as he drums his fingers against the door before shoving the same hand into his hair, pulling on the roots.

Through the seat, I feel his leg bouncing, but I don't say anything. It's kind of soothing.

Once we're at home, Dad escorts us inside, his footsteps heavy on the floor, and his shoulders curled inward, his head hanging lower than normal.

"Where's Aunt Renee?" Jasper questions, while Rose merely looks worried.

"She's waiting for Carlisle to be done at the hospital so he can look over Bella. She'll be here soon," he hesitates, muttering something under his breath and scrubbing a hand over his face.

After a moment of silence, Dad looks at each of us in the eye; his words matched with the seriousness in his eyes. "I'm going back to help out where I can, okay? I'll investigate Lauren too and see where she is. Lock the doors and no leaving at all, understand? Don't answer the door either."

We all nod and give him a hug. Dad hugs me tightly, pulling back with a small smile.

"Don't worry," he whispers. "You'll be safe, okay? The man who attacked you …" he pauses, seemingly choosing his words before he says. "He'll be found and taken care of. It's a promise."

Strangely, I know this to be true. For some odd reason, I can feel the truth of his words deep within me; I know by the end of this night, Laurent will no longer be an issue, one way or another.

Nodding in acknowledgment, I give a slight smile. "Okay. Will you … will you check on Jess? She … she _has _to be okay."

Dad agrees before I'm through. "She was rushed straight to Carlisle. I have no doubts she'll be fine."

Relieved, I thank him, knowing Carlisle will go above and beyond to help her. If he can help my Mom and countless others tirelessly, he can help her. I wave as he leaves, and I lock the doors with a firm hand. The headlights from his car flash through the windows before returning to the soft lighting the lamp in the living room provides.

Rose claps, forcing a smile onto her face. "Okay, let's salvage the rest of this evening, hmm? I'm thinking popcorn, some candy … maybe some movies? Whatever you want."

The last suggestion is hesitant and unsure, and while I'm touched by her consideration, I do feel a little better now. Sure, I still feel nervous and slightly anxious, but now that I'm home, and coupled with the feeling of Laurent getting what he deserves, I feel more centered and grounded.

"Sounds good."

She nods and follows me to the stairs, arms outstretched. "I'm going to help you get cleaned up."

My gut reaction is to turn down her offer and tell her I can do it myself, but honestly, right now, I don't feel like being alone.

Jasper tugs lightly on my arm, his eyes swimming in worry and concern. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine."

He nods, not looking like he believes me in the slightest, but says nothing. "All right. Let's get this evening started. You guys go get ready, and I'll be down here doing my own thing."

Murmuring my acceptance, I start up the stairs, pausing when Rose addresses Jasper.

"Jasper," she says, holding a tone of warning. "Don't. You can talk to them tomorrow."

"Rosalie, I need to see if she's okay—"

"Tomorrow," she interrupts. "Leave them alone."

"But what if—"

"_If _there's something you can do or you're needed for something, I'm sure you'll get a call. Until then, get changed for the movie."

Without another word, we go upstairs, leaving Jasper. Carefully, Rose helps me out of the now ruined dress, hissing as I wince from a sharp movement. Whispering an apology, she throws the dress into the hall, leaving it there to take care of later.

Wistfully, I sigh.

I had been so excited about that dress. I would have kept it for years, and now it's ruined, stained with blood, torn from harsh tugs and tarnished with bad memories. I'm sad about the short time I had it, but I'm not sad to see it go.

After my shower, I feel more energized and a little more like myself. The hot water against my flesh helped me rid the memories and the blood, for now at least. I don't know what tonight will bring, though, when I lay down to sleep.

Hopefully, I'll dream of a soothing melody and have peaceful feelings, rather than giving that scum any more of my energy.

My steps are slow as I head downstairs, my legs feeling like cooked noodles. One hand firmly grips the banister and the wall, not wanting to give Rose and Jasper any more cause for concern. Rose, having cleaned herself up as well, smiles brightly and hands me a giant orange bowl of Halloween candy with a wink.

"Eat. I'll get Jasper."

Doing as I'm told, I tear into my favorite chocolate candy, sighing in relief as the sweetness touches my tongue. Taking my second bite, Rose comes storming into the room, a piece of paper clutched in her hand and curses rolling off her tongue.

"What's wrong?" I question, clearing my throat to clear the hoarseness from my words.

Ignoring me, she snatches her phone off the table, she pushes harshly onto the screen, still muttering. Seconds later, she growls, "Jasper, get your ass home _now._ I swear, if you get hurt, I'll kill you."

Throwing herself down on the couch next to me, she wordlessly hands me the paper in her hand. On it is Jasper's messy scrawl, hastily written out in an impatient hand.

_**I went to check on Alice. I need to make sure everything is okay. I have my cell phone. I'll be okay, don't worry. **_

"I can't believe him," she fumes her pinched face red. "He's in for it. He is. When he gets here, he's _so _going to get it."

A broken chuckle leaves me; I'm kind of glad I'm not on Rose's shit list this time. It makes me wonder what hell she'll give him. Knowing Rose, it won't be anything good.

Fortunately, I don't have to wait long.

Half an hour later, headlights illuminate the living room, and Rose jumps up, peering out of the window.

"Finally."

Marching toward the door, she throws it open and bellows Jasper's entire name, tapping her foot on the floor. She takes a deep breath to ready herself for screaming at him but pauses as he pushes her inside, slamming the door closed.

Jasper's face is ashen, highlighted by the light sheen of sweat beading up on his forehead and upper lip. His breathing is heavy, coming out in heavy pants as his hands fumble with the locks. Trying and failing three times before he gets it right on the fourth try, he leans his back against the door with a heavy sigh. When his breathing returns to normal, he races into the living room, pulling the curtains closed.

"Jasper?" I ask, standing and slowly heading toward him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he spits out, taking a calming breath and closing his eyes. When he opens them again, he doesn't seem any better. The frenzied panic is still there, but his voice is more controlled.

"I'm okay, just don't go outside … and don't contact the Cullens ever again."

* * *

**Uh-oh. **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**I hope everyone is still staying safe. Until next time!**


	24. What Jasper Saw-Chapter 23 Outtake

**Surprise! Everyone (including my beta and pre-readers) was very curious about what Jasper saw when he went over to the Cullen house. So ... here's his POV.**

**Big thanks to Fran, Monica03, and Mr G and Me. (Any mistakes you see are you my own.) **

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

**Jasper POV-**

My fingers drum against the steering wheel as my foot anxiously presses the gas. The car picks up speed, the gentle purr of the engine turning into a low growl the faster I push it.

It's a clear sign of the great work Dad and Rosalie have put into it. Once, what feels like forever ago, the two of them would disappear into the garage for hours. We would often find them huddled over engines or tinkering underneath the cars, bonding over their mutual love of vehicles—something my father shared as well.

They continued tinkering in his honor and memory, wanting to keep his love and passion alive.

Just the thought of my dad sends a pang of pain through my chest. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss him or my mom.

I'm thankful for Uncle Charlie and Aunt Renee being there for Rosalie and me, and for loving us like their children. In some ways, they're a lot like Mom and Dad, though they can't be replaced and take away the sadness I feel for my own parents.

I miss the weeknight games Dad invented—from "seek the treasure" to "what ingredient did I add into Mom's cooking?" I miss watching sports, mimicking his posture, and taking a sip of my drink whenever he did, because, in my eyes, there was no one cooler. I miss doing puzzles, trying to place together the intricate pieces, and smothering a laugh whenever he cursed because he couldn't find the right one.

With Mom, I miss being her "helper bee" in the kitchen. Every night, I would help her cook dinner, beaming proudly when she would praise my quick help, but knowing at such a young age, I was anything but. I miss her nightly stories and how her face would light up or grow somber at what she read. It was almost like she made the emotions she read about real. I miss her soft singing whenever I was upset; I can practically hear her now, singing "_You are my Sunshine" _in her soothing voice, willing away the negative feelings coursing through me.

I hang on to the sound because I definitely need it.

Tonight has been a whirlwind of stress, anxiety, and worry.

From finding Jessica bleeding and broken in the haunted house, to Bella's attack, to seeing Alice so upset; it's been a nightmare and not the kind you should have on Halloween.

I can only hope that Jessica will be okay, but I heard that Carlisle immediately helped her. Due to his quick actions, I have no doubts she'll be okay.

Plus, he's a great doctor.

The rumors about Carlisle's abilities weren't exaggerated or embellished. After seeing how he was when Rosalie and Bella were attacked by Royce, I know he's the best doctor on the West Coast—and probably the world.

He's quick and smart, able to find the source of the injury and striking with precision to make it better as soon as possible. With Jess in his capable hands, I know she'll make it.

As for Bella … well, she's strong. I wouldn't have left her if I thought she wasn't going to be okay. Plus, with Rosalie there, I know she's in good hands.

It's Alice I need to check on. The distress and worry she was emitting were enough to bring me to my knees. I don't know what caused her to look so troubled, but I knew it wasn't anything good.

Even more worrying was the overwhelming _need _I had felt. I couldn't explain it, but I _needed _to go to her, to make her feel better and take away whatever was bothering her.

I'm still unsure of _how _to accomplish this, but I have to do something.

Even if all I can do is lend an ear.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I don't bother fishing it out. I know it's Rosalie, calling to bitch me out for leaving. She was adamant I stay away from the Cullen's house tonight, her eyes full of secrets she wouldn't reveal, no matter how hard I pressed.

She tried to play it off like I was seeing things, but she had forgotten that I _know _her as well as I know myself. I _know _she's hiding something; I could feel it seeping into my skin and settling into my bones like iron.

She wasn't fooling me, but still, she remained tight-lipped.

Which is why I _had _to leave.

Whatever is happening with the Cullens—with Alice—I should be there to help them in whatever way I can.

I know technically they don't _need _my help, just like I know they're not entirely who they say they are. Despite their normal appearances, they exude an otherworldly aura, one that screams dangerous and beautiful, all at the same time.

When I first saw them, I knew something wasn't quite right with them. My gut told me so; my instincts screamed at me to run as fast and far away from them as I could because they _were _dangerous, and not to be trusted.

Once I got to know them, though, I found they were anything but dangerous. They were kind and welcoming, embracing my quirks—like my love for horror and history—and never making me feel like a freak.

The only other people who didn't make me feel that way are Bella and Ben Cheney; while I do have other friends, they're not as easy going as my cousin and Ben.

With Emmett and Edward, I feel comfortable around them, as if I've known them my whole life, rather than a few short months.

Alice is a different story; I feel a connection with her, there's no denying it, no matter how badly it freaks me out.

It took me time to get to this point, but now that I'm here, I fear there's no going back.

At first, I wanted nothing to do with her. I will admit, I thought she was pretty and was bewitched by her ethereal looks, but that all faded fast when I caught the look on her face.

She looked relieved, as if she had been searching for me forever. The adoration, and dare I say it … look of _love_ shining on her face was enough to send me reeling.

I had only seen that look on my parents' faces, and between Uncle Charlie and Aunt Renee, so I knew what it was, I just didn't understand why she was looking at _me _that way.

We didn't know each other, and I don't believe in love at first sight, so there was no reason for her to be gazing at me that way.

I'll admit, I did push her away. I wanted nothing to do with her and her intense stares, but once we were forced together—which couldn't have been a coincidence—I found she wasn't that bad to be around.

She's quirky, with a fiery, energetic personality that pulls me in, no matter how hard I try to fight it.

I'm starting to develop feelings for her, something I can no longer deny.

That's why I'm on my way to her now. Something is wrong, and I _need _to be there. Despite her small stature, I'm sure she's capable of protecting herself, but this overwhelming urge I feel to be near her and my friends is something I can't ignore.

I'm afraid if I do, I'll regret it later, and I couldn't live with myself if something happened to them—or Alice.

The driveway to the Cullen house is difficult to find in the dark, but I manage to locate it, only missing it twice.

The lights from the house are brightly lit, shining from every window on every floor; a kind of beacon for wayward travelers … or me.

Esme stands on the grass, wearing all black, her hair pulled in a messy updo, her fingers twisting together. Anxiety rolls from her in heavy waves, erasing all questions of _why _she's out there waiting for me, unless Rosalie warned her. I wouldn't put past her.

Hurrying from the car, my knees nearly buckle at the intense feeling of apprehension hanging heavily in the air. What had happened between leaving Port Angeles and now?

Was someone else hurt?

Was it Edward, Emmett, or Alice?

I swallow thickly against the thought, focusing on the song my mom used to sing; I wouldn't assume the worst, not yet.

"Is everyone okay? Alice? Edward and Emmett?" My voice is as rocky as my feet, which slip from under me as soon as I take a step.

In the blink of an eye, Esme is by my side, sliding a hand under my elbow to support my weight before I can utter a word.

My heart lodges in my throat at her sudden movement, my legs now shaking for an entirely different reason.

"How did you get over to me so fast?"

She shakes her head, practically carrying me up to the house. "There's no time to explain."

Escorting me into the living room, she helps me to the couch, her worried eyes drifting between me and the back of the house. Her hands jerk and twitch as if she's trying to be in two places at once.

"Whatever happens, whatever you hear, do _not_ move from this couch, do you understand?" The look in her eyes is fierce and grave, her tone hardening by the time she's uttered the last word.

Before my eyes, her face hardens, and her eyes darken, her top lip curling in a slight snarl. Gone is the sweet maternal woman, and before me is a lethal warrior, one ready to battle.

But battle what? Or who?

"Jasper," she barks, her voice softening when I jump. "Tell me you understand. _Please._"

Shakily, I nod, and without waiting for another word, she literally _blurs _out of the room.

I blink once … twice … three times, because I'm sure I must be imagining things. There's no way that she pulled a _Flash _and left with inhuman speed.

There's just no way.

Of course, I _have _noticed the odd quirks the Cullens have; their cold skin, their strange eye color that goes from bright honey to dark onyx, and their peculiar eating habits. But I always figured it was due to a disorder of some kind.

After all, there's no such thing as the supernatural.

So what the hell just happened? Did I imagine seeing her move so fast? Has the stress from this evening finally gotten to me, and I'm hallucinating?

Loud, furious growls of an animal bleed through the walls, followed by the sound of a thunderous crack. I jump once more, falling hard onto the floor. A hiss escapes me as my elbow clips the coffee table on the way down. Gingerly, I rub it as I stand, counting my lucky stars Bella wasn't here to witness that.

She'd never let me forget it.

I remain frozen in the middle of the living room, hearing Esme's warning repeat in my head.

I was told to stay on the couch and not to move … but what if she needs help?

Uncle Charlie's warning about dangerous animals living in the woods comes to mind, and the Cullen house definitely qualifies as being in the woods. It's far enough from town to not have any neighbors for miles, not to mention the way it's hidden.

… Another odd thing about this family.

In the kitchen, I spot a large butcher knife resting next to a half-carved Jack O'Lantern, bits of pumpkin flesh dried on the blade. It's a good weapon for close proximity, something I'd rather not do if there's a bear or a wolf out there, but at least it's something.

I take half a step before I stop, rummaging through the cabinets for something to throw, allowing the knife to be plan B. I settle on a cup. Maybe if I can distract the animal, then Esme can get away.

Hurrying to the back door, I'm ready to throw open the door and toss the cup at the nearest animal, but what I see instead makes me stop.

There _is _a wolf outside; many of them, in fact. They're huge, bigger than the average wolves I've seen, possibly rivaling the size of a full-grown bear.

My heart roars in my ears, wondering how I'm going to get Esme out of there unscathed.

With their size, there's no way she can escape.

I need to call for help; Uncle Charlie will know what to do.

He has a lot of guns at the police station; there should be enough to get rid of these beasts.

I fumble for my phone, juggling the pathetic excuses for help in my trembling hands, searching for his number. When I glance back up to get an exact number, I note all the Cullens, plus two more, are there, standing beside these behemoth creatures in a loose circle as if they're not afraid.

The two new faces I instantly recognize from Port Angeles; they had been standing with Alice, Edward, and Emmett, worry, and concern etched in every look and action.

Who are these people? What is going on?

And why is Carlisle _here_? Shouldn't he be with Jessica?

My confusion mounts as I notice these animals aren't attacking them. In fact, everyone seems focused on something—or some_one_—in particular.

In the center of the circle stands a man with dreadlocks, his clothes torn, with deep scratches and gashes covering his crouched body. His hands are talons at his sides, his lips set in a snarl as he glances around, glaring when his gaze rests on someone as he looks for a way out.

My suspicions are confirmed when he makes a jump for an opening between the red-haired woman and the blond man, the former flying toward him, her nails scratching and tearing at his flesh, causing him to release an earsplitting combination of a howl and growl.

The woman cackles, holding up a piece of his arm in a taunting manner, flinging it behind her shoulder as if it were garbage.

Surprisingly, he doesn't bleed. Instead, a thick, clear substance leaks from the injury, pouring down his arm in slimy torrents.

My stomach rolls and I want to close my eyes, knowing something is happening here I should have no knowledge of, but I can't. My eyes are glued open, unable to look away.

The man in the center growls, the sound deadly; a clear warning that he's going to retaliate.

Everyone steps forward in unison, even the wolves; it's then that I see everyone has the same lethal expression on their face. Gone are the caring, _normal _expressions I'm used to seeing on them. Instead, it's one of a predator stalking its prey.

The wolves roar and growl, their massive paws digging into the earth as they fight the temptation to charge ahead.

Carlisle steps forward first, the unfamiliar blond man stepping up slightly behind, as if guarding him. Carlisle speaks, but whatever he says makes the man in the center laugh, his head thrown back in glee as he responds.

A furious snarl erupts from Carlisle's throat, his body coiling as he springs toward the man, hurdling himself at him as he moves in a blur, punching and tearing at the man's flesh.

He falls to the ground, one hand crossed over his stomach. He looks down at his wound but smiles when he looks back up, shaking his head as he says something more.

Whatever he says doesn't make anyone happy; one by one, they attack him at a dizzying speed, their movements indistinct and quick as they rip and tear at him. They step back once he stops moving, only to continue once it seems he's recovered.

Once more, my stomach rolls at seeing the manic expression on my friend's faces, especially on the Cullen elders … it's an image I can't coincide with what I know about them.

Especially Alice.

The man says something to her, his eyes drifting toward me.

I swallow thickly as _all _heads turn to me. The Cullens' eyes are black as the night around us, and the wolves' eyes are glowing but seemingly aware and knowledgeable.

Before I can comprehend what that means, Alice leaps through the air, landing a kick on his midsection, her hands clawing at his chest, ripping into him as if it's second nature.

Emmett steps up when the man collapses on the ground, unmoving. He carries a thrashing Alice over to Esme, who holds her against her side, brushing her hair back and placing kisses on her temple.

On the way back to his position, Emmett kicks the man in the back of his head, the resulting _crack _making me wince as it echoes into the night.

Several seconds pass in tense silence as everyone stands frozen, studious watching the man lying in the center.

In one swift movement, he's up and laughing, the sound booming. I startle backward in surprise, wondering how the hell he can move after the beating he had just endured.

His gaze cuts to Edward with a smirk, though I can clearly see his pain in the action. Seems he's not completely as unaffected as he appears.

Edward hurdles forward, jumping on his back in one swift, graceful move, his hands tearing at the man's throat. A growl emits, rattling the windows and causing a cold sweat to break out on the back of my neck.

Whatever is happening here has gone on long enough; I don't know what is going on or what he's done to deserve this, but it needs to end.

The items in my hands clatter noisily onto the floor, and I drop to my knees, scrambling to pick up my phone. Just beyond the glass is a symphony of snarls and movement. When I look up, I see the giant wolves are now getting their turn, stomping and biting at the man, who howls in pain but still attempts to fight them off.

The Cullen's stand back with a smirk, their faces inhuman and void of empathy.

I know without a doubt I need to get out of here because if I don't, I won't live past this night.

But first, _this _needs to be stopped.

With my phone in hand, I scroll to Uncle Charlie's number, though it takes me four times to highlight it, thanks to my shaking.

Just as I press send, I see him and Aunt Renee stroll into the backyard, the latter looking just as deadly at the others.

"Stop!" Aunt Renee calls. "He's _mine._"

Immediately, the wolves back off, and she steps forward, her attention only on the man in the middle. Carlisle steps up to Dad, nodding in my direction.

Uncle Charlie's gaze zeros in on me, his lips thinning as his face turns red. He nods once, reaching for Aunt Renee's hand and squeezing once, saying something to her, which she doesn't acknowledge.

It seems as if she's in a trace, the smile on her face neither friendly nor welcoming.

Uncle Charlie stalks across the yard, his heavy footfalls pounding on the wooden steps. He slams the door behind him, grabbing my arm in a tight grip that makes me gasp.

"What in the hell are you doing here, boy?" He yells, traces of spit flying from his lips. "What did I tell you? You don't leave the house!"

He's super pissed—angrier than I've ever seen him—but I can also see the worry and concern there too.

"What's happening out there?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"None of your concern, now come on. You've seen too much."

He steps in front of me, attempting to block my view, but he's unsuccessful. I have a few good inches on him and can still see everything happening in the yard.

Aunt Renee crouches low, her hands are drawn into claws, mimicking the Cullens perfectly. Her face is pulled into a snarl, looking nothing like the woman I consider my second mother.

Instead, she looks like everyone else.

A monster.

With a choked gasp, I watch with wide eyes as she flies through the air, landing on the man's shoulders. In one smooth and effortless move, she rips his head off, holding him by the hair.

Unable to suppress it any longer, I scream before blackness overcomes me.

* * *

Soft, concerned voices rouse me from my sleep.

Instantly, I'm suspicious, wondering what Bella and Rosalie are planning. This wouldn't be the first time the former hatched a scheme to prank me, so I need to be on guard.

The strange smell of smoke has me apprehensive, but with Rosalie here, there's no way she'll let her do anything stupid.

I keep my body still and breathing even, as to not alert her.

"Do you think he'll be okay, Charlie?"

"Before or after I beat his ass for coming here?" he replies, his words laced with anger, but they still hold an underlying tone of concern.

"Charlie," Aunt Renee scolds.

"What? He disobeyed Esme and me. He shouldn't have been here, and you know it."

Aunt Renee ignores him, directing her statement to someone else. "Carlisle?"

The one word sends everything rushing back.

… _The savage attack on the strange man._

… _The giant-ass wolves that helped them. _

What's worse is that Aunt Renee _killed _him. She ripped his head clean off his shoulders, leaving no doubt about his fate.

Giving up my pretense, I scramble backward, falling over the couch and backing into the corner.

The Cullens look on, shocked at my reaction. Carlisle and Esme were nearest to me, along with Aunt Renee and Uncle Charlie, while Alice, Edward, and Emmett stand in the back with the two unfamiliar people that helped them.

"St-stay back," I warn.

"Jasper, calm down," Aunt Renee says soothingly, her hands in front of her in a surrendering position.

"You too! You're just like them! A monster!"

Hurt flashes across her face, but she doesn't make another move toward me. Instead, Uncle Charlie takes the lead, walking with slow and precise movements.

"Jasper, you need to listen to me, okay?"

I ignore him. How can I listen after everything I had seen?

"You're all monsters! You _killed _that man. Why?"

"He took a human life and broke our sacred law," the blond man replies. "He needed to be dealt with before serious consequences erupted."

"What are you talking about? You're speaking in riddles!"

Nonchalantly, he shrugs a shoulder. "We're vampires."

I gape as everyone turns to glare at him.

"James," Carlisle says, looking none too pleased.

Frustrated, the man identified as _James,_ throws his hands up in the air. "Well, he's seen us in action. There's no denying it now! What were we going to say? We're superheroes?"

A panic-stricken laugh leaves me. "Vampires? There's no such thing!"

"It's true," Alice admits, her face drowning in sadness. "We're … vampires. We have been for a long time."

"No way. It's a thing of _myths _and _legends_—" I stop short, remembering all of the times Bella, Rosalie, and I would go to First Beach to hang out with Jake.

Billy, his father, would tell us legends of their people—great warriors that could change into wolves to protect their people from the _cold ones_—their natural enemy.

"_Only, there was one family that we worked _with _us __instead of against us," _I remember Billy saying. _"They were different from the others of their kind. They respected human life and protected it. Their diet showed in their gold eyes, for that is color of goodness." _

Looking around, I see the gold eyes he was talking about.

How had I not put it together before? I listened to those stories every time we went but never paid them any attention. Only Bella had truly been absorbed in the tall tales, sketching out scenes from what she heard.

I stop short, wondering if Bella knows about this, but blow it off just as quickly. She would have told me.

Rose, on the other hand, is another story. Based on her secretive looks and her behavior tonight, she definitely knows.

"You can't serious, you can't be real," I repeat.

"We are real," Emmett counters. "I can show you!"

Much like Esme did earlier, he blurs around the room, and before I can comprehend what's happened, he's in front of me, grinning, though his usual friendly humor is no longer there. It's replaced with worry.

"Come on," he says, trying to remain jovial. "You're half of your sister; you got this. She's strong and so are you."

I scoff, shaking my head in disgust as he confirms my thoughts about Rosaile's knowledge of these ... _things. _

She and I are going to have a _long _talk later.

"Emmett, you idiot," Edward snaps. "Get over here."

"You're going to give him a heart attack," Alice agrees with a glare.

"Sorry," he mutters, zooming back to his previous position as if he never moved.

My breathing accelerates, and frantically, I shake my head, wondering how this is all possible.

"He's hysterical," the red-haired woman says. "You should slap him. I hear that helps."

"Victoria, enough," Carlisle snaps, silencing her with a look. "You and James are _not _helping."

She shrugs, unfazed by his reprimand, and continues to look on.

"Jasper," Uncle Charlie starts again, taking another step toward me. "Listen to me; it's all true; vampires _are _real."

"Wha—how?"

"We'll get into that later, but all you need to know is that _he _was the monster, not the Cullens, and certainly not Renee."

"You're in on this?" I ask a bark of astonished laughter, leaving me. "Of course you are. Your _wife _is a monster too. Did they turn her into this? They did, didn't they? Bastards! I'll kill you all!"

"Enough!" he booms. "I won't have you talk about _my wife _or my friends that way. For many years they've done a lot of good, not only for us but for this town. They're good people, son. Trust me on this."

"After what I've seen? No way in hell," I hiss.

"That man was the reason everyone was going missing and turning up dead. That _man _was the same person who attacked Bella and your mother. He nearly killed both of them! If it wasn't for Carlisle—" he trails off, his voice becoming choked with tears.

My own heart breaks for him, remembering the way he cried on Carlisle's shoulder.

Aunt Renee steps up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Whatever she tells him gives him comfort, and he composes himself.

"Carlisle _saved _her. If it weren't for him, she would be _dead, _Jasper."

I suppress a sob at the thought of losing another parent, but one look at the woman in question tells me I didn't. She's here … and a killer.

"But what she did—"

"I did that to protect my family. He attacked Bella and threatened my kids and husband; that's something I _won't _let it slide, and I won't apologize," she says, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"But killing _you_ isn't crossing the line?" the woman called _Victoria _says with a snort. "I like it. Tiger Mama," she ends her statement with a cat-like roar and a wink, making Aunt Renee smile.

"Anyway," Carlisle says, wiping his hands on his pants in a very human-like way. It's startling to see such an ordinary gesture coming from him, especially after I had witnessed them all kill someone. "I take it you remember Billy's legends, yes?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. He smiles kindly, and still, it's hard to put together the ferocious look he had tonight, compared to what I normally see. They just don't fit.

If someone had told me what happened here, I would tell them to get a doctor, because there's no way these people could ever do something like that.

But now, I know the truth.

"What he said was true; we're not monsters, Jasper, although it _is _easy to come to that conclusion after what you had seen tonight, but we're really not. We're a family; we only want to live in peace, but Laurent—the man you saw—didn't. He only wanted to wreak havoc on this town. His entire purpose was to hurt, torment, and kill."

Remembering what Bella said earlier tonight, I have to ask, though, in my gut, I know the answer.

"Bella mentioned something about Lauren?"

The grim and saddened expressions from everyone confirms my thoughts. "Yes. She's gone. She was one of his many victims we were too late to save."

Sorrow is hefty in the room, nearly drowning me. Each person wears the same somber expression; their grief and anger clearly etched on their features.

The logical side of me wars with the illogical; if they are truly monsters, how can they feel things like sadness? How can they save people, as Carlisle does?

That doesn't make them monsters. It makes them good people, just like Uncle Charlie said.

However, memories of their actions immediately make me wonder if perhaps they're not just trying to confuse and distract me.

Reason and sense immediately leave me; of course, they are. I'm sure they'll come up any lie to excuse their behavior … after all, they're not _human. _

I'll do whatever I can to keep them away from my family and drive them out town until my last breath, in an effort to protect Bella and Rosalie.

I won't let them take another member of my family.

I'll find a way to end them first.

* * *

**A little insight into Jasper and what he saw ... obviously, he's not taking it well. We'll see how's he coping (or not coping) in the next regular chapter. **

**I hope you enjoyed the outtake! **

**Oh, I forgot to ask this in the previous chapter ... how many of you are excited about Midnight Sun (finally!) being released? Or are you indifferent about it?**

**I'll see you soon! Stay safe! **


	25. Chapter 24

**Hello! I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. I know it's been awhile and I'm sorry about that. There's been a lot that's happened in RL.**

**Fran, Mr. G and me, and Monica03 are the best at listening to my rants and fixing my mistakes. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**A lot of you weren't very happy with Jasper ... and I'm afraid this chapter won't change your mind. Just give him a chance. He's a stupid teenager. LOL ;)**

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

Despite our begging, pleading, and demanding answers, Jasper doesn't utter a word.

After double-checking the locks and peering out the window, he paces across the floor in between the living room and the kitchen, chewing on his thumbnail. Every so often, he'll pause and look toward the door, mumbling under his breath and shaking his head.

I stand back near the couch, crossing my arms, wondering what could have happened. He seems okay—apart from the intense panic and fear radiating from him—there's no visible bruising, and he's not bleeding, something that relieves me immensely.

I'm still curious, however.

What _had _happened at the Cullen house?

The questions and possibilities are endless, but there won't be any answers until Jasper opens his mouth.

Rose finally steps in after the third pause, her hands firmly on his shoulders as she looks him in the eye.

"Jasper, _brother,_ talk to us. Tell us what happened." Rose shoots me a quick, nervous look. "If you want, the two of us can go chat, too. I think I might be able to provide a good insight."

"Hey," I protest, reaching forward to lightly push her and immediately regret the decision as, the wound on my shoulder pulls. I hiss through my teeth but continue. "Why couldn't I provide a good insight?"

"Not now, Bella. Jasper?" Rose continues, inclining her head toward Jasper's room.

He's shaking his head before she's done speaking, his eyes wide. "No. I can't. It's too—" he trails off with a heavy sigh, forcing a hand into his hair, pulling at the roots. "Just trust me, okay? It's best if we all stay away from the Cullens and stick together."

Groaning, Rose steps away, throwing her hands in the air and glares at her twin, her face reddening from his cryptic words.

Sensing her frustration, I step in between them and look toward Jasper. "Will you stop being cryptic? What happened at the Cullen's?"

"I can't tell you. Just trust me."

"Of course we trust you, but we're also not going to let you dictate who we can and cannot see. Not unless we're given a good reason."

Irritated, he huffs, his arms flailing wildly as he screams. "Why isn't my word good enough? _I'm _your family! _I'm _the one you should trust, not them!"

"Hey, don't shout at me," I reply just as loudly, stepping into his face. "I'm just trying to figure out what happened. You come in here, ranting like a madman and expect us to listen? You've _never _acted this, Jasper. _Never. _Now, let's just sit down, be calm and rational, and discuss this—"

"And I told you, I can't tell you. You're just going to have to trust me. The Cullens aren't … good people."

Rose and I exchange confused glances. I don't know about her, I'm sure as hell wondering why and how Jasper jumped to this conclusion. I'll be the first to admit a few of the Cullens get under my skin—Edward, mostly—but they're good people.

They're different and strange, but that doesn't make them bad people, and nothing I've seen makes them appear to be. Hell, Dad respects the hell out of them, so that tells me something right there. He wouldn't associate with them if he thought otherwise.

"Okay," Rose starts slowly. "How did you get to the conclusion? What did the Cullens do to you?"

Her gaze sweeps down his form from head to toe, looking for any signs of injury. There are none, not that I can see, and Rose comes to that conclusion as well. Sighing with relief, her head hangs down, her chin touching her chest.

"I'm not hurt," he tells us, albeit a little begrudgingly. "They didn't lay on a finger on me."

"Okay," I reply, drawing out the word. "Then what happened? As you said, we're your family, and you can trust us. Whatever you have to say, we'll believe you. Trust me, I know there's a lot of freaky shit in this area."

Rose casts me an inquisitive look, but she knows now isn't the time for questions. Instead, she turns back to Jasper, nodding seriously.

His eyes frantically shift between us, an internal debate raging within him. His facial expression moves from fear to worry to acceptance. Finally, he blows out a long, slow breath and allows his head to hang back on his shoulders, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

Rose and I wait perfectly still; my inquisitiveness is simmering, threatening to boil over, but for some reason, I can't move. The feeling of being forced to remain still freezes me in place, almost as if there's a bubble around the three of us, trapping us in a pocket of stillness.

Slowly, Jasper raises his head and looks us each in the eye, taking in another steadying breath. Rose squeezes his hand once, smiling in support.

"We're here for you."

He nods and starts to speak, but just as he does, noise at the door distracts him. The door opens, and my parents come through, their clothes wrinkled, and hair mussed. The heavy scent of smoke trails after them, making me wonder where they were and what they were doing.

Ordinarily, I would automatically wrinkle my nose in disgust and playfully complain about their obvious activities, and probably never go near their car again, but one look at them has me pausing.

Serious eyes meet my own, both of them looking very displeased. Schooling my expression into a blank mask, I straighten my posture as Dad raises an eyebrow at our stances, exchanging a quick look with Mom. Jasper shifts behind us, stepping in the direction of his room.

"What's going on, kids?" Dad questions, shutting the door firmly and locking it.

Smiling tightly, Rose shrugs a shoulder. "Just having a sibling meeting."

Dad raises an eyebrow. "Hmm. Everything okay?"

"Fine," Jasper rushes out, shifting us out of the way as he releases a nervous laugh. "I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed. Night!"

Racing to his room, he slams the door behind him. Seconds later, there's a loud clatter of noise and the sound of metal scraping against wood. The parent's exchange raised eyebrows, wide eyes, and secretive frowns.

Dad chuckles, unamused, under his breath, looking toward Rose and me. "You two know anything about this?"

I want to know more about what happened tonight, and if anyone can get the information out of him, it's my parents. However, I also know he _wasn't _t supposed to leave the house past curfew. If they find out he disobeyed their orders, he'll be grounded for sure.

While having him here would be great for me and my quest for answers, I can't do that to him. I need to have his back, just like he would have mine.

And, of course, blackmail him for an unforeseen amount of time.

I shrug, rocking back on my heels and shoving my hands in the pockets of my sleep shorts. "No."

Skeptically, Dad tilts his head, keeping his gaze on mine unblinkingly. A knowing twinkle shines in his eye, but he says nothing, turning his attention toward Rose. "Rosalie?"

I expect her to rapidly deny any knowledge of Jasper's strange behavior, but she doesn't utter a word. Indecision is clear on her face as her gaze shifts between my parents, her mouth opening as if she's going to speak.

No doubt feeling my stare, I subtly shake my head when he turns to look at me.

"I hate to break up your little pow-wow, but may I interject something?" Dad inquires, stepping close. "We already know Jasper was out past curfew, and he's upset about something, so … does anyone want to think about their response? Change their mind, perhaps?"

Briefly, I close my eyes and push away the heated mortification slithering its way up my chest. Taking deep breaths to calm myself, I shift, hoping to appear uncomfortable, rather than guilty.

Knowing anything else I say will just get me into further trouble, I opt for an alternative; something that won't get me into too much more trouble, but that's not an outright lie.

"That's weird, because he was here when I went up to change after we got home."

"Really?"

"Yep."

Silence and unblinking stares stretch on into the minute mark. The urge to fidget is strong, and thanks to the earlier events of the evening, I can't seem to keep my hands from shaking or my feet from shuffling, side to side.

In support, Rose wraps an arm around my shoulder, holding most of my weight, which I'm extremely thankful for. Maybe she can keep my frustratingly fidgeting body from getting me grounded.

Surprisingly, Dad and Mom's lips ease into humorous grins. He chuckles lowly, his fingers rubbing his mustache while Mom giggles, shooting us a wink.

"Okay," he finally says, casting a look toward Jasper's door. "We're going to go talk to him. You okay?"

Meeting his eyes, I nod. I don't feel completely great; the injury in my shoulder aches like a bitch, and I still feel extremely weak, but I'll be okay. I always am.

"I'll be okay."

"Doctor Cullen will be here soon to look at you," Mom murmurs. "He's with Jessica right now, but he'll be along soon."

"Is she okay?"

My parents exchange a look. "We don't know," Dad replies. "But it _does_ look good. Carlisle is a fantastic doctor; he'll fix her. And you."

"I'll be okay," I repeat.

Dad says nothing for a long while, simply staring at me in silence. When he's satisfied with my response, he nods once, pointing at Rose before moving his finger in my direction.

"Do my job and watch out for her," he teases.

Rose squeezes my shoulder. "Of course."

Nodding, he and Mom head toward Jasper's room, knocking with a firm hand. He doesn't open right away, which doesn't please my mother very much.

"Jasper Whitlock, if you don't open this door in the next second, heaven help me, you _will _regret it. Understand?"

His response is muffled, but my parents hear it just fine.

"You're on the fast track to losing your allowance and being grounded for the rest of the year," Dad warns. "Watch your tone and open this door. I'm losing my patience."

Once more, Jasper answers, but it's too low to hear.

"Of course not!" Mom replies, appalled. "What has gotten into you? Open this door right now; I'm done talking to you _through_ it."

My eyes widen, and my mouth drops open, thoroughly shocked at what's happening. I've never seen Jasper act this way before. At my side, Rose appears to be in as much disbelief as I am. Her eyes are closed, and the corner of her lip is tucked between her teeth as she slowly shakes her head.

More inaudible words are exchanged, and I lean forward even further, trying to make out what they're saying.

Surprisingly, Rose doesn't berate me on my attempts to eavesdrop. In fact, she seems to be trying to listen in as well, leaning forward on the couch with her head tilted, much like I am.

After a minute, the door opens, with Mom leading the way inside.

"I see Hurricane Jasper came through. Good job, son. It's impressive you did this in such a short amount of time," Dad remarks. "You're not taking anything I should know about, are you?"

"You're so cleaning this up," Mom tells him, completely unimpressed with what they've found.

"Renee, shut the door. I think Bella and Rose have heard enough."

"Hey!" Rose and I shout indignant.

Dad's laughter fades as the door closes, plunging the downstairs in silence. Now that we're alone, I turn toward Rose, my mind running rampant with possibilities as to what exactly happened tonight. I have some theories, but I want to hear Rose's first before I go shooting my mouth off.

"What do you think happened over there?"

She pensively purses her lips as she looks up from her phone, hiding the screen from view. I raise an eyebrow at this, having a feeling I already know who she was texting. "I don't know. Maybe he got into a fight with one of the Cullens."

Frowning, I absently tap my fingers against the arm of the couch, the soft drumming kind of comforting. Initially, I had thought he fought with one of them, too; however, his reaction is a tad extreme for someone who simply fought with one of his friends.

Then again, Jasper can be a tad emotional sometimes, especially when he's taken off guard by things. If something rattled him enough, he jumps to conclusions and thinks about things later, rather than taking that time in the present.

"What do you think they fought about? You and Emmett?"

Rose's head whips toward me, her eyes wide and mouth falling open. "You know?" she hisses.

I smirk. "I wasn't completely sure until now."

Rolling her eyes at her outing herself, she's muttering under her breath. She sighs heavily, collapsing back into the cushions with a defeated look. "How did you suspect?"

"Well," I tease, turning to face her as I tuck my left leg under my right one. "You weren't bad-mouthing him all the time for one. Two, I overheard your conversation outside of my art fair. Three, you've been in a really good mood since my birthday and … I kind of saw you two holding hands outside the Halloween store." I pause, letting that sink in for a moment. She looks away, a small, fond smile on her face. "So, how long has this been going on? How did it start?"

Inclining her head, she blows out a breath, rubbing her hands over her thighs. "It wasn't easy. He admitted he liked me, but wouldn't ask me out. I mean, you heard what he told me," she says with a false glare. Her expressions softly as she fingers the hair hanging over her shoulder, twirling a lock of the golden tresses around her finger. "At first, I scoffed at what he said about me not being happy and loving myself. I thought I did. When I talked to Vera about it, I realized the truth. I wasn't happy, not really. I was dyeing my hair because Royce like my blonde hair and I wanted to spite him. Truth is, I was never happy with brown hair; I love my natural color but I never admitted it to myself. I just thought it was something I needed to do to put the incident behind me. I was also comparing everyone and everything to my experiences with Royce and Lauren …" her soft voice trails off, her focus on her fingernails scratching at the fabric on her legs.

I wince at Lauren's name, recalling Laurent's words about her. Despite her nasty behavior, I hope she's okay and not another victim of his.

Pushing those thoughts away, I nod in acknowledgment, having suspected most of this already. It wasn't that hard to figure out when she nagged me about dyeing my hair. Plus, it was easy to see she wasn't completely over what happened during her attack. However, I didn't realize how deep it went until now.

I didn't realize she trapped herself in a box, pushing everyone away, so history wouldn't repeat itself. I should have seen that she was struggling, and I wish I had noticed things sooner, so she could have been helped long before it got to this point.

Grasping her hand, I squeeze once. "I'm sorry, Rose. I should have—"

"You're not at fault, Bella," she interrupts. "I hid it well. Even from myself." She laughs lightly, though it's not in humor. "I guess I needed someone who wasn't that close to me to point it out."

Once more, I nod. "So, you two are dating?"

Slowly, she nods, an ecstatic grin lighting up her face. "Yeah. We're talking things slowly, though. He's so nice, Bella," she gushes, laying a hand on my arm. "He treats me so well; like a princess. He's … always leaving me notes and flowers. Always texting me to see how I am. But he's not overbearing; he knows when I need space and when I don't. He … gets me," she says, sounding amazed. "It's almost as if he knows what I need before I do. I'm … I'm really happy."

Reaching forward, I pull her into my arms and hug her tightly, mussing her hair as I pull back. A noise of disgust leaves her as she pushes me away with a laugh, attempting to fix the mess I've made.

"I'm glad, Rose. You deserve it."

"Yeah, I think I believe that too."

I smile in response, feeling an overabundance of love and happiness for her.

Silence washes over us in a heavy wave, the only sounds coming from the ticking of the clock and the faint murmuring of parental voices as they speak to Jasper. I'm dying to know what they're talking about and even more curious to find out what happened tonight, but now isn't the time to find out.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"That guy … the one that hurt you … do you think he really hurt Lauren?"

Everything comes crashing over me once more, like an avalanche ready to bury me alive. Swallowing through the thickness in my throat, I nod, unsure if I'll be able to speak.

Rose shakes her head, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I know she's not the best person but I—"

"I know. I feel the same way," I interrupt.

"Yeah," she mumbles, twisting her fingers together.

On the coffee table, my cell phone buzzes across the surface, the small device slowly moving toward the edge. Snatching it up, my eyebrows rise into my hairline, and my stomach flutters with comfort and surprise.

I accept the call, but before I can say a word, the person on the other end of the line speaks.

"Bella, are you okay?" Edward frantically asks, his words coming out slightly jumbled.

"Hello to you too."

He laughs, the sound a mixture of relief and frustration. "Well, since you're not answering my question and being a smartass, I'd say you're okay."

Rose rises from the couch, pointing toward the ceiling. I wave in understanding, and she goes upstairs, her cell phone at her ear before she reaches the first step.

"Being a smartass is what I'm good at."

"You'd certainly win an award for it."

"Finally! It's been my life's dream to get an award for my sarcastic prowess."

Lightly, he laughs, but it fades just as quickly as it came. "Seriously, are you all right?"

I hesitate, fingering the hole in the hem of my shirt. "I'll be fine," I murmur. "I've been through worse."

He hums. "Yeah, and you'll get through this too. You're strong and I won't—"

"You won't what?" I ask when it's obvious he's not going to continue.

"Nothing," he quickly replies, seemingly flustered. "You don't have anything else to worry about, okay?"

My answer is quiet and low. "I know."

I don't know how, but I know there's nothing else to worry about. I know that for now, I'm safe.

He doesn't comment on the matter further, leaving the line silent. The only sound I hear is his soft breathing gently drifting through the line.

The sound is calming, but my mind won't let me relax. All I can think about is Jess and whether she's okay.

"Have you seen or spoken to your father recently?" I question, enlarging the hole in my shirt as I wait for his response.

"Jessica is going to be fine," he tells me, correctly assuming my reason for the inquiry. "She's lost a lot of blood but my father was able to save her in time."

Blowing out a heavy breath I didn't realize I was holding, I tightly squeeze my eyes closed. I nod, even though he can't see me and laugh lightly, feeling some weight lift from shoulders. I feel like I should jump for joy and rush over to Carlisle, hugging him as tightly as I can.

With my still shaky limbs and the late hour, I know that trip won't be successful, so I'll have to settle for expressing my gratitude at a later time.

"Good," I mumble to myself, my cheeks starting to hurt from the force of my smile. "Good. And you? Are you okay? Things looked pretty intense between you and Alice."

"Yeah, we're good now. Just a sibling spat."

I bite my tongue against the retort wanting to come out, because I know it was more than that. Besides, I have more pressing things to delve into, like Jasper's odd behavior regarding the Cullens.

"How was the rest of your evening? Anything exciting happen?"

"I don't know about exciting, but Jasper came over," he admits, almost reluctantly.

"What happened?"

He's silent for so long I think he's hung up on me, but a quick look at the phone tells me otherwise. Waiting somewhat patiently, I twirl the fabric around my finger, bunching the material until my fingers throbs, only to release it and start the process over again.

"There was a disagreement," he finally admits, albeit reluctantly. "Heated words were exchanged … and long story short, he didn't agree with us on something."

Unfortunately, this just brings up more questions than answers. "Mm-hmm. I don't suppose you're going to share what this disagreement was, are you?"

This time, he answers immediately. "No."

"I can keep a secret. Trust me, I have _tons _of secrets that I'm keeping under wraps."

"I find that _very _hard to believe," he says, dubious.

"Why is that, oh knower of all things?"

"You look shifty."

"Let's not bring our looks into this," I warn playfully. "I have a list for your looks."

A small squeak of rough fabric against leather comes through the line, and in my mind's eye, I can practically see him reclining back on a black leather sofa, looking smug as hell.

"Oh? Do tell," he teases, much like I thought he would.

"I would, but it's already been a stressful night for your father. I don't want him to repair your ego and self-esteem after I trash it."

He laughs, deep and rich. "Fine. I'll let it go. For now."

Rolling my eyes, I huff lightly, inwardly cursing myself. I _have to _get better control over what I say around him. Knowing that won't be possible any more tonight, I opt for the next best thing.

Avoidance.

"Is Alice around? I'm sure she's upset with everything that's happened."

"She's not taking calls right now," he tells me, his voice a lot more subdued than before. "I'll tell her to call you, though."

Disappointed, my head falls back, an intense feeling of worry for my friend filling me. Knowing how close she and Jasper have gotten recently, I know Jasper's new avoidance attitude won't be easy for her to handle. She's been happy lately, seemingly lighter, despite the heaviness that follows.

"Promise you'll give her the message?"

When he responds, his tone holds a mixture of false innocence that almost sounds sincere. "Don't you trust me?"

"Not at all."

Lowly, he chuckles, murmuring a snarky response into the phone, but I miss it completely as Jasper's door opens, and my parents filter out, followed shortly by Jasper. They look completely frustrated and slightly annoyed as he stalks toward me, his hand outstretched.

I jerk back with a glare, holing my phone tighter.

"Who are you talking to?" he demands, his face turning red.

"None of your business."

Annoyed, he reaches for my cell phone, leaning over me as I attempt to twist it out of his grip. He makes a move to snatch the phone away as it drops onto the floor but winces as I deliver a firm hit to his gut with my elbow.

Striding away from him, I come to stand near my parents, who look on with disapproval.

"I gotta go," I mumble into the phone.

"I gathered. Bye, Bella."

Without a farewell, I hang up the phone and plant my fists on my hips. "What the hell is your problem?"

Nonchalantly, he shrugs, though I can see the nervous flicker of his eyes as he looks from me to a random spot on the floor. "I told you earlier. I don't want you talking to them."

"Jasper," Dad warns, but it's Mom who steps up, bringing her hands up to her chest, palms resting together in a pleading stance.

"Jasper, honey, we talked about this."

"Yeah, we did, but I don't share your views," he spits. "I don't agree that they're good people."

Stalking off to his room, he slams the door, the pictures rattling on the walls.

Stunned at the hostile tone he's taken with my parents, I suck air through my teeth, waiting to see what my parents will do with this sudden and unexpected show of fury.

Much like myself, they're surprised, frozen with equal expressions of shock etched in their features. They stare at each other unblinkingly, and once what happened sinks in, Dad's face turns an odd shade of puce, the veins bulging in his neck. Mom simply looks disappointed, her eyes glistening.

"Bella," Dad says, his voice hard but controlled. "Go to your room. Obviously, we need to speak to Jasper again."

Without argument, I head up to my room, collapsing on my bed while a burst of dazed laughter erupts from my chest. I can't believe Jasper lost his cool like that; most of the time, he's calm and collected, but to see him so upset and so adamant in his silly beliefs that the Cullens are evil, makes me all the more curious to know what happened tonight.

My hand twitches toward my cell phone, eager to get some answers, but I doubt I'll get any from the Cullens. If I've learned anything about them, I know they'll remain tight-lipped about everything, so going that route is a definite dead end.

I could always try Jasper again, but right now, he's too upset and too hostile to answer anything. Plus, with the hard set of Dad's face, I know that right about now, he's being read the riot act.

I'll wait for Jasper to calm himself and _then _ask him.

I just hope his new attitude doesn't stick around.

* * *

**I think Jasper needs a little more time ... **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Stay safe!**


	26. Chapter 25

**I hope you're all doing well and staying safe! And Happy Friday!  
**

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews ... and to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for all their help with this story. They're awesome! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

Cautiously, I tiptoe through the house, freezing when the floorboard loudly squeaks underneath my feet. With my heart lodged in my throat, I squeeze my eyes closed, taking slow, measured breaths as I wait for any sign of acknowledgment from the noise I just made.

Luckily, things remain silent and still, but I don't dare move until I've calmed down, and I'm sure the coast is clear.

There's no movement in the room beside his steady breathing and the slight snores escaping his throat. Blowing out a breath, I release a soundless laugh, relieved he hasn't woken yet.

Continuing into Jasper's room, my eyes sweep around the surfaces of his furniture, looking for my cell phone. For the past week and a half, Jasper has gone to extreme measures to keep me and Rose away from the Cullens in any and all ways.

At first, he merely blocked the door and refused to budge no matter how many threats of violence were hurled in his direction. To add to the frustration, everything we said to him managed to roll off him with ease, his demeanor remaining cool and collected.

When that got old, Jasper took to hiding car keys, but that didn't fly very well with parental units, and he was forced to give up on that quest pretty quickly.

Jasper was persistent, though. When one planned failed, he came back with two more, ready and willing to enforce what he thought was right.

Everything from snitching on our past misdeeds to planning impromptu family nights; nothing stopped his mission from keeping us from the Cullens.

He also took to unplugging the home landline, which had been ringing off the hook the first three days after Halloween.

Alice called the most at first, first wanting to see if our friendship was still alive. I didn't get very far in reassuring her that we're still friends before Jasper intervened, intercepting her calls and spitting out harsh threats to cease calling us.

Through the receiver, I could her pleading with him, begging for a chance to talk more in-depth about what occurred—something he still hasn't shared. Rose and I have both begged and threatened him to spill what happened, but he's remained tight-lipped, only saying that we should trust him.

Honestly, I've never _not _trusted him when it comes to people. His unique insight into people and their intentions has always been right; Royce and Lauren, for example. However, his newfound feelings about the Cullens are definitely far off.

I'll admit I'm not the biggest fan of all the Cullens, but I know they're not bad people. A certain person is kind of a jackass, but he does have some good qualities.

I wish I could say the same for Jasper at the moment. His refusal to give an _honest _reason as to why we shouldn't associate with them and his current pastime of thwarting our attempts to talk them have gone way too far.

Like taking my cell phone.

Late last night, I realized my cell phone was missing. I tore my room apart looking for it, thinking I had left it somewhere and just forgot where I set it down. When I started searching in the living room and saw his triumphant smirk, I knew he was responsible.

I tried to barge in here last night and take it back, but he locked himself in before I could cross the threshold. Picking the lock didn't do any good because he would just lock it back once I succeeded, so I knew I needed to wait until he was deeply asleep to break in.

So I did.

Now, I just need to find my phone and get going before he wakes up.

I frown when I come up empty, surmising he must have hidden it in a drawer. I had hoped he would have been satisfied with getting it away from me, but apparently not.

Shooting a glare in his direction, I delicately open his drawers, trying to look without actually looking at what he keeps inside. The last thing I want is to find his porn stash.

The last drawer on the dresser is forcefully shut with agitation when I come up empty-handed. The only other place in is his nightstand, and if it's not in there, then I have no idea where to look.

There's no way I can search his entire room before he wakes up, and if he finds me in here, he'll be in a shittier mood than he has been.

I suppose I can just go over to the Cullen house, but I don't want to show up unexpectedly, especially when they might not be there.

During one of my unsuccessful attempts to leave, Dad had told me the Cullens had to leave town for a family emergency, something that Jasper was all too pleased about.

It's been two days since then, and the silence from my end has gone on too long. I need to see Alice and make sure she's okay.

Maybe I can get answers from her.

On the way home, perhaps I can stop by and see Jess as well; she was recently released from the hospital, recovering from her injuries. I had never been as thankful as I had been when I heard she was going to pull through and be okay.

She's obviously traumatized by the whole ordeal, and I'm not the picture of perfectness myself, but she had it way worse than I did. Maybe once I see her at home, safe and sound, I'll get over these issues I've been having.

In the meantime, I _need _to find my phone. I'm not going anywhere without that thing being near me, just in case.

Finally, in the back of the nightstand drawer sits my cell phone, and with a triumphant and gloating grin in Jasper's direction, I snatch it. Sneaking out the same way I came in, I strut into the living room, strolling through my messages and stopping short at the two newest ones, both of them to Alice and Edward.

The messages are short but impactful.

_**Leave us alone and get the hell out of town. **_

Fuming, I narrow my eyes at Jasper's door, the irate words building on my tongue. Marching to his door, I prepare to throw it open and confront him, but I'm stopped by Dad.

"Bella," he greets, coming down the steps at a leisurely pace.

He looks rested and refreshed; the past few months of stress and worry seemingly vanished. Instead of looking worn down and older than his thirty-six years, he looks even younger.

I merely grunt at him, too pissed off for pleasant conversation.

"Have you forgotten how to use your words, or are you not human now? Should I call a young priest and an old priest?"

I huff a laugh but say nothing.

"You know, everyone told me having children would be a wonderful experience, I just never thought it'd be this fun," he replies in a sarcastic drawl.

Unable to help myself, I snicker. "I bet you have a newfound appreciation for Gran now, huh?"

Innocence washes over his features. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was a perfect child."

I snort, remembering Gran's stories of what a hellion my dad was growing up. Sure, he wasn't as bad as some of his friends, but he wasn't an angel either. Gran spilled all of his secrets, some Dad knows I'm aware of and others he doesn't.

"Sure, you were. Underage drinking, speed racing, egging houses, and the biggest one, becoming a dad in high school."

His face takes on a pinkish hue, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Your mother and I did have you young … but the rest of that is all lies. Your Gran …" he pauses, blowing out a breath through his teeth. "I don't know how to tell you this, but she drinks. And she's crazy. She made all that shit up."

Laughing loudly, I quickly smother the sound with my palm, resting my forehead against his arm. Dad chuckles along with me, hugging me to his side.

"Don't you dare tell her I said that," he whispers.

"Still scared of her?" I question, raising an eyebrow.

Immediately, a hand goes to his ear, gently rubbing the small area there. I wince sympathy, clearly remembering Gran's affinity for pinching that part of the ear in reprimand and punishment.

"So, why were you going to kill Jasper so early in the morning? On my day off? How many times do I have to tell you to do that crap outside, where it's easy to clean?"

"Sorry, lost in the moment," I joke.

He narrows his eyes, pointing a finger at me. "That's what'll get you caught. You need to watch more cop shows and learn more."

"Dad," I reply with a laugh. "You're a cop."

"Not a good one."

He laughs it off like it's meant to be a joke, but underneath the humor, I can hear the infliction of truth there. I'm honestly shocked he thinks this. In my eyes, he's the best officer Forks could ever have; who else would work so tirelessly, for hours on end working not only on the big crimes but the little, inane ones, just to give people peace of mind?

"You're the best one," I tell him, staring into his eyes, so he sees my sincerity.

Embarrassed, he smiles, rubbing a hand across his mustache. Faintly, I can see the pink hue of his cheeks and know he's uncomfortable with the praise I gave him.

In an effort to make him more comfortable, I veer the conversation into familiar territory.

"You know, for an old guy," I say flippantly.

Boisterously, he laughs, throwing his head back and hooking an arm around my head, rubbing his knuckles against the top of my skull. I struggle in vain to escape before digging my elbow into his side.

He jerks away with a fake scowl. "You definitely have your mother's bony elbows."

I stick my tongue out at him, and he laughs once more before digging something out of his pocket … his truck keys, dangling from his finger precariously while he gives me a devious smile.

"You can either go in there and give Jasper a beating _or,_" he says, drawing out the word, swinging the keys lightly. "You can go see your friends."

Not taking the time to think about it, I snatch the keys from him and head toward the door, turning around when he calls me back.

He tosses a banana in my direction, and it bounces off my hands, but I manage to catch it just before it fumbles to the ground.

"You need to eat. I have an image to uphold, you know."

"Of course." I pause, my fingernail digging into the soft skin of the fruit. "Hey, Dad? Why aren't you concerned about what Jasper's been saying?"

Dad leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he shakes his head, disappointment evident on his face. "Jasper is … misguided right now. Trust me, I know the Cullen's very well, and they're good people, Bella. I honestly and truly believe that. Not only that, but I've also seen it. If I didn't trust them … if a lot of people I respect didn't trust them, well, let's just say I wouldn't allow you to go over there. Jasper has a lot going on right now; he's letting his fear guide him into making rash decisions that could hurt him in the long run, but once he calms down, he'll see he's wrong."

"And if he doesn't?"

Sadness quickly washes over his face, but it's gone just as fast as it appears. "There's nothing we can do, then. We'll continue making our own decisions and let Jasper make his own. He's stubborn, but so are we," he replies with a wink.

I nod in acknowledgment. "Okay, sounds good. Now, if he would just leave my shi-crap alone."

I wince at my almost curse, but he doesn't react to it other than a short chuckle. "I'm glad you gave the Cullens a chance, Bella. It was rocky there for a moment."

"I only care about Alice," I defend, scoffing at the idea of liking any of the others. Emmett is kind of cool, but other than that? No way in hell.

Dad raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure. You better get going if you're going to go over there. I have it on good authority Jasper set an alarm to be up early."

Rolling my eyes, I mutter a string of curses under my breath. "Of course, he has. Stupid ass-head."

"Bella, language," Mom scolds, coming down the stairs and straight into Dad's side, who doesn't look too pleased with my cursing.

"Sorry," I mumble, inwardly chastising myself. I _need _to be more careful. "See you later."

"Be safe!"

Waving over my shoulder, I race out to Dad's truck, speeding down the street, toward the Cullen house. It doesn't take long for the scenery beyond my window to blur into a swirling mass of green and brown, blending into one, nauseating color.

It takes an even shorter amount of time for the swirling blue and red lights, followed by the shrieking of a police siren to rush up behind me.

"Shit," I mumble, banging my head against the headrest, slowing the truck to the side of the road.

In the side mirror, I watch as Deputy Mark swaggers out of his vehicle, one hand on his gun and the other swinging at his side. I bite my lip to hold back my laughter at the aviator shades adorning his face and how he hangs them on his slightly open shirt when he reaches the truck.

He honestly looks like a walking cliché of how cops look in movies, and he definitely takes it to a ridiculous extreme.

"Bella," he greets, with a single dip of his head.

I nod back, noting the wrinkles in his clothes and the smudge of lipstick on his neck, underneath a very nicely developing hickey. My guess is, he's spent the morning with one of his 'nightly conquests' and just rolled out of bed.

"Deputy Mark. What's going on?"

He sighs, a faux look of disappointment plastered on his face. "You were speeding. Again. Doing well over eighty."

Raising my eyebrows, I attempt to look shocked. "Really? I didn't realize. I'm so sorry," I tell him with fake sincerity. "I'll admit, I _was _in a bit of a hurry. A friend of mine needs me."

Dubiously, he stares, allowing the moment to fall into a tense silence. I give him a tight smile, my body thrumming with impatient energy, looking for a way to channel it.

My fingers drum against the door, my skin sticking slightly on the plastic. My foot bounces against the floor, lightly shaking the car. In the passenger seat, my cell phone begins to buzz insistently, and I don't have to look at the screen to know who's calling.

Deputy Mark looks between my cell phone and my face with an inquisitive stare but doesn't comment. Instead, he reaches for the small book he keeps in his back pocket, retrieving a pen from his front shirt pocket.

"I know you're the chief's daughter, but you can't be an exception again. Sorry."

"Yeah," I grumble. I agree that getting a ticket is fair, but I still hate it. I need a built-in radar for cops, so I'll know when to my curb my speeding.

"Mark, are you almost done? I wanna go home now," a whining voice calls.

Deputy Mark's face drains of color, and he drops the book and pen in hand, the items falling onto the concrete with a muted thump.

In the rearview mirror, I see Tracy Miller, hanging out of the passenger side window, her hair a knotted mess and clothes extremely wrinkled. Tracy's top is exceptionally tight and low cut, showcasing the fact that she decided to forgo a bra for the morning ride of shame.

"Tracy, I told you I'll take you home in a minute," he hisses, stepping away for a moment. When he returns, he's red in the face, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile, ignoring my muffled chuckled against my fist. "I'm … gonna let you go with a warning this time, okay? Don't …"

Raising my hands in surrender, I shake my head. "I won't speed, and I didn't see anything."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he nods once, tapping the roof of my car. Stepping away, he rapidly walks to the car and hisses at Tracy, who doesn't seem to like his tone very much. Her face twists and her hands ball into fists on her hips while she screams back at him.

Chuckling, I start the truck and drive off, wanting to get away from the quarreling pair. When I'm far enough away, I press down on the gas, speeding the rest of the way to the Cullen house.

In the passenger seat, my cell phone continues an annoying pattern of buzzing relentlessly before falling silent, only to repeat the cycle. Thankfully, it's easy to ignore since the volume isn't turned up and is simply drowned out by turning on the radio.

Once I pull into the Cullen's driveway, I jump out of the car and bounce up the steps, knocking on the door with a firm hand. I check my phone to make sure my parents or Rose didn't call, but the only name that shows up is Jasper's.

In addition to the eleven phone calls in the past ten minutes, there are a handful of text messages with the same suggestion in each one, varied with each message.

_**Bella, DO NOT go to the Cullen's place. Do you hear me? If you care about me AT ALL, you will not go there. **_

Rolling my eyes at his dramatics, I type back a quick message, knocking once more. _**You're overreacting, Jasper. Nothing will happen. Trust. **_

Unsurprisingly, he replies back in an instant. _**I trust **_**you. **_**I'm not too sure about them. You'll get hurt. They'll hurt you. Please, just come back home.**_

_**Jasper, what you're asking **__**me **__**isn't really fair to me. I've had enough of this conversation. We'll talk later. **_

Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I blink as the door opens, and the wild-haired, red-headed woman I had seen with the strange man is there, a smirk on her ruby lips. Causally, she leans against the doorjamb, crossing her arms over her chest.

There's a ferocity in the way she stands, and in the vibrant energy she gives off that makes me take two steps backward.

For the first time, I feel slightly nervous about being here.

"Hello," her voice is soft and smooth, with an alluring purr that, no doubt, would bring men to their knees. Coupled with her otherworldly looks, I know men _and _women would be putty in her hands.

I shift from left to right as she stares unblinkingly, still smirking as her gaze slowly travels from my head to feet, then back again. Heat floods my system; I resist the urge to fidget and scratch at the back of my head and neck, struggling not to snap at her to 'take a picture.'

"Is Alice here?"

Leisurely, she nods, her amusement rising into her golden eyes. "You're Bella."

I'm confused because her words are a statement; there's no denying the knowing look in her eye as she continues to smirk. My apprehension momentarily forgotten, I simply feel annoyed that she has the upper hand.

"Is this the psychic headquarters? An office for Google? There's a shitload of people here that seem to know everything."

The woman laughs, her head thrown back and shoulders shaking. The sound is an odd combination of a child-like giggle and sultry chortle. I haven't been jealous of too many people in my life, but I definitely feel it toward this woman.

How can she pull off looking innocent, yet alluring and fierce at the same time? It's just not fair.

"I've heard all about you, and I have to say, I'm _loving _what I'm seeing."

"Really?" I nod in a jerky movement, crossing my arms over my chest. "'Cause I don't know _anything _about you."

Rolling her eyes, she straightens, holding an arm out in invitation. "Why am I not surprised? I love them all, but they're clueless morons sometimes. Come in. It's going to rain."

I remain where I am, wondering what I should do. This strange woman has an aura of danger around her, but the fact that she's _here, _with the Cullens, tells me she can be trusted. I don't know them completely, but I know enough about them to know they wouldn't allow anyone inside their home _they _didn't trust.

However, the question remains … _who is _this person?

"I'll come back," I mutter.

"Why? You drove all the way out here, in a rush from what it appears," she says knowingly, pointedly staring at the driveway, where tire marks from the truck can clearly be seen.

I force a smile, trying to control my heated skin. "Uh, whoops. Sorry."

She waves away my apology with a small laugh. "Don't worry about it. They've all done worse … so have I for that matter," she muses. "So? Are you coming in?"

I hesitate, my question about her relationship to the Cullens dying to be answered.

"How do you know the Cullens?" I blurt out.

Lightly, she smacks her forehead. Her head slants backward and to the left, that same smirk appearing on her lips, only this time, it has a teasing quality to it.

"And here I am, talking shit about them. I'm Eddie's Aunt Vicki," she coos, holding out a hand.

"Victoria," a familiar, deep voice groans in frustration.

Behind her, Edward gently shoves her out of the way, his eyes wide as he sees me standing there. He blinks rapidly, his head tilted to the side with shock evident on his features. At his side, his hand twitches toward me.

Seemingly surprised, he stares at his hand for a long moment before he forces it back down at his side, shoving it in his pocket.

"Bella," he breathes. "You're … here."

Nodding once, I rock back on my heels, shoving my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. I know his confusion is all Jasper's fault, and my cousin's interference just pisses me off all the more.

If Edward is this confused, then I can't imagine what Alice is feeling.

"Yup. I'm here."

He shakes his head, looking as if he's going to say something, but he's interrupted.

"Ah, that's cute," Victoria says, seemingly gleeful for some reason. "He's surprised."

Shooting her an irritated glare, he huffs. "Stop it."

"Why? It's the truth." Reaching up, she pinches his cheek, which he bats away with a disgruntled grunt.

"Stop," he complains, though I can see a hint of humor shining underneath the annoyance.

I, myself, am completely amused by the entire interaction. I don't know what's going on exactly, but it's easy to see they're clearly family. She's taking too much joy from this interaction and his discomfort to be anything but family.

"Your face will freeze that way," I remark with a smirk.

_Victoria _snorts, lightly rolling her eyes and pushing Edward's shoulder. "It's _already _frozen that way, trust me."

He staggers forward, toward me, and I brace myself for impact, but he manages to catch him against the doorframe. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Victoria?"

"Here, obviously," she says, hitting him once more. "Do you have no manners? Invite her in; all of this outside air is making me homesick."

Spinning around, she heads further into the house, disappearing from view. Confused at her words, I take up the offer to come inside, but pause as Edward holds out his hands, stepping forward into my personal space.

Firmly, he shuts the door behind him, rolling his eyes as Victoria shouts at him through the closed door.

"Don't mind her. She's insane."

I hum a response. "She's your aunt? She seems—" I pause, not sure how to say this, so I just spit it out. "Affectionate."

Grimacing, he does a half nod and a shrug. "She has issues with personal space … and yes, in a way, we _are _related … unfortunately."

"Wow," I reply with a bark of laughter. "I'd hate to hear what you say about _me _if you talk about your family with such glowing remarks."

"Trust me, I don't waste my breath."

I sneer. "Sure. That's why your siblings knew _all _about me after our encounter in PA?"

Clearing his throat, his eyes dart away momentarily before meeting mine again. "I was pissed off. I needed to vent against the rude people I encountered."

"I think you remember that encounter wrong."

"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure _you _were the aggressor. Like always. You're very violent."

Not taking the bait, I change the subject, getting straight to the point. "What happened here on Halloween?"

"Nothing," he replies nonchalantly. "Didn't we already go over this? Or did you come here for another reason?"

I scoff. "You wish. I'm here for—"

Before I can finish what I'm here for, Victoria swings the door open. Edward jumps away from me, jostling me slightly. Nervously, he eyes me from the side. Until he moved away, I had no idea we were so close.

I also have no idea why I didn't notice or care.

"I'm tired of listening through the door," she tells him. "Come in so I can relax while I eavesdrop."

Chuckling, I head inside, looking between them as she reaches up and nudges his shoulder.

"Remember what we were talking about, Eddie?" she questions, teasing. "I think it's _definitely _true."

"You're delusional … and don't call me Eddie."

"And the rest of us?"

"In the same boat," he snaps before turning to me. "Look, now isn't a really good time."

"I see that," I murmur, my attention drifting between a tickled Victoria and an aggravated Edward. "Well, I'm happy to burst your ego, but I didn't come for you. I came for Alice; so, where is she? In her room?"

Edward steps in front, holding a hand out to stop me. "She's not up for company."

Frowning, I sigh heavily and ready myself for an argument when to my surprise, it's done for me.

"You really have no manners," Victoria complains, stepping up beside me. "Let her go up and see Alice. She might be able to cheer her up. I don't like an upset Alice; she brings down the whole house."

"Victoria," Edward grinds out through clenched teeth. "I don't think that's a good idea."

The pair begins to bicker like siblings, each of their voices rising as the other replies. Rolling my eyes, I manage to slip past Edward and head upstairs, but I'm stopped halfway as Alice rushes down. The squabbling duo silences and heavy footsteps reverberate on the stairs. Edward comes to stand next to me, his hand sliding around my arm and cupping my elbow.

"Bella?" she chokes my name, surprised and shocked at my appearance. If it were possible, I'd swear she got paler.

"Hey, Alice. Can we talk?"

Alice's face falls into a blank mask, her body going unnaturally still, except for her index fingers on both hands, her fingernails scratching her thumb knuckles.

"Sure," she replies, monotone.

Quickly turning around, she leads the way to her room, and I extract my arm from Edward's grip, smiling tightly at the worried glare he shoots.

The burning stare of Edward's eyes remain on the back of my head as I follow after her, the sensation finally fading as I reach the landing, out of view.

I gently close the door behind me as we enter Alice's room. She sits on the end of the bed with her hands folded in her lap, her eyes trained on the ground floor. It reminds me of the times my parents had sent me to my room for acting up; I would sit _exactly _like this as I had "thought about what I had done" until they came up to talk to me.

Alice is clearly expecting something bad to come from this conversation, and right now, I need to set that straight.

Sitting next to her, I bounce lightly, but I get no reaction. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replies, despondent.

"Yeah, it sure seems like it. Wanna tell me what happened on Halloween?"

She's shaking her head before I'm done speaking, her lips pressed tightly together. "I … can't. It's … there's too much … no."

Heavily sighing, my shoulders slump inward slightly, but I brush it off. Obviously, learning what happened on Halloween won't come easy or simply, but I can wait.

"Fine. But I take it something did happen between you and Jasper, right? I figured that much since he's gone all _commander and general _on us, forbidding us to come here."

Alice's head tilts as she stares, sadness still etched on her features. "But … you're here."

"Well, yeah," I reply, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. Alice doesn't need my attitude right now. "You're my friend, you're upset; of course I'm going to see how you're doing."

"But the text you sent—"

"Jasper," I interrupt, narrowing my eyes at the incessant buzzing of my phone. I really want to throw it against the wall—or Jasper's head—but I can't afford to buy a new one. "I wouldn't say something like that through a text."

Without warning, Alice throws her arms around me, squeezing tightly. The air whooshes from my lungs in a rush, but I manage to hug her back rather awkwardly since her arms are locked around mine.

"Okay … can't … breathe," I manage to choke out.

She releases me at once, sheepishly grinning, though her eyes are much lighter than they were moments ago.

"Did you really think I would abandon you?" I ask, thoroughly perplexed that she thought I wouldn't be her friend after my cousin went nuts.

"Well, yes," she replies, somewhat stiltedly. "He's your cousin, your family. I thought you would stand by his side ... that's why I've been ignoring you."

My reply is instant, leaving no room for questions. "Of course, I would, in a heartbeat. _But,_" I amend, "only when he's given me good reason. If he had been this way all along, then yeah, I would have kept my distance. But after him being close friends with your brothers and becoming your friend? I'll stick to my own opinion. Besides, my parents sing your family's praises. If they trust you, and I _feel _you're all good people, then I'm going to be making my own decisions regarding my friendships with you."

Once more, Alice beams, and her eyes turn glassy, but no tears fall. "You have no idea what that means to me."

Sympathy washes through me at her relieved tone, and I take her hand, squeezing once. "I won't apologize for his actions, because he needs to do that, but I _am _sorry he hurt you."

She shrugs a shoulder, trying to appear indifferent, but I can see the pain flair across her face. "I know I came on too strong at times; I know I'm a lot to handle, but I thought we were becoming friends. It _felt _like it, at least. His reaction was to be expected, I suppose. Some people can't handle certain truths."

Pursing my lips, I can't help but feel that spark of anger toward Jasper again. How can he be so rude toward Alice and the rest of the Cullens? I don't know what he saw, but it couldn't have been that bad. Sure, the Cullens definitely have a dangerous aura about them at times, but honestly, everyone has that potential.

"He's just being difficult right now. He'll get over it."

Slowly, she shakes her head and heaves a heavy sigh. Her smile is forced, tight, and completely fake. "I don't think so."

"Look, I know him. If he was serious about keeping us from being friends, he'd spill what happened here, but he hasn't. He's been tight-lipped about whatever promise he made you, despite his attitude."

For a moment, hope flares in her eyes, but it dims just as quickly, her sadness coming back tenfold. Briefly, I feel guilty for obviously making her feel worse, but I know I'm right. I just wish she'd see it.

"Alice—"

"So, what do you want to do?" she interrupts, plastering a smile on her face once more.

Not wanting to push her, I start to think of what we can do, but a familiar shout echoing throughout the house has me pausing.

"Bella! Get down here!"

Pissed off, I spin around and stomp down the steps, barely noticing that Carlisle, Emmett, and Edward are attempting to calm down an irate Jasper. He ignores them, his dark eyes instantly narrowed on me.

Victoria stands in the back, all traces of previous amusement gone as she watches the scene unfold. She looks as if she wants to step in, but refrains when she sees me.

"We're going home. I can't believe you came here when I told you not to," he hisses.

Stepping in between Edward and Carlisle, I lean toward him, matching his irate glower with one of my own.

"How dare _you,_" I reply lowly, heat slithering up my chest and into my face. "How _dare _you send that message. Do you not care that you _hurt _Alice? Or your friends? Me?"

At the mention of her name, his eyes lift over my shoulder, no doubt seeing Alice there before briefly glancing at his friends. Surprisingly, no one looks upset at his behavior; they simply seem resigned and guarded.

Jasper's expression is pained, remorse flooding his features before they vanish. Reaching forward, he gently grabs my arm, slightly pulling me toward the porch. I fight him, yanking my arm out of his grip and narrowing my eyes into a glare.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Edward step up beside me, his jaw clenched. I can't help but wonder what the hell he's doing; does he think I can't take care of myself or that Jasper is dangerous? Or perhaps he's just trying to get a rise out of him.

Either way, it's ridiculous.

From his other side, Emmett nudges his side, inclining his head toward me. Edward shakes his head once and takes a step back, shrugging at his brother while avoiding my gaze.

Rolling my eyes, I wave him forward, hoping there will be a place where Jasper and I can speak alone.

Maybe I can talk some sense into his brain.

"No. Outside."

"If you wanna talk to me, we stay _in. _I'm here visiting my friend, and I'm _not _leaving before I'm ready," I challenge, folding my arms over my chest.

Jasper presses his lips together firmly, staring at me unblinkingly. "Fine."

Turning toward Carlisle, the question on where I can take my bone-headed cousin already on my lips. Carlisle, however, beats me to it.

"Take the reading room," he suggests, waving an arm toward the tucked-away room just off the living room.

"Thank you."

With a sincere smile, he nods and steps out of the way, giving Jasper a wide berth to enter. Despite this, Jasper cautiously walks inside, his eyes glued to the floor.

Inside the small library, I pull the pocket door closed, noting that most of the Cullen's had dispersed. Edward and Emmett are the only two that remain, both of them talking quietly, with the latter gesturing in my direction.

I'm extremely curious as to what's being discussed, but now isn't the time for that.

"I want us to leave," Jasper starts. "Now. Let's go home, and we'll talk there."

"What is up with you?" I question, seriously worried about his frame of mind. "You know these people, Jasper. They're your friends. What has made you so paranoid?"

"I can't—"

"Tell me," I finish for him. "Yeah, I know. For someone who claims not to trust and like the Cullens, you sure are guarding their secrets pretty heavily."

Looking away, he bores holes into the floor, gritting his teeth but not saying anything. I wait for a long moment, letting my words sink in before speaking again.

"Maybe it's because you know deep down they're not bad guys. If Dad likes them then—"

Jasper scoffs, roughly rubbing at the back of his neck. "Uncle Charlie is blind."

"Everyone in La-Push too, huh? And everyone in town?"

He nods once, his jaw clenched.

I sigh heavily, rolling my eyes upward and wishing for more patience to deal with my stubborn cousin.

"Jeez, you're a headache," I mumble. "Okay, different tactic. _If _the Cullens were as dangerous as you say they are, then they would have gotten rid of you by now. You know, considering what's _known_."

The color drains from his face, and he stands taller, his back straightening and body tensing. "What … what do you mean? Do you—?"

"I mean, they could have easily killed you if they were dangerous. They could have staged it, making it look like an accident, and no one would have been wiser. But …" I say, drawing out the word. "They haven't. You're still here, being pissy with everyone. I think Edward's attitude has rubbed off on you."

"He's a go—" he stops suddenly, clamping his lips closed as he realizes he was about to defend his friend.

I smirk, my amusement growing as his anger increases. The air in the small room grows thick and uncomfortable, almost to an unbearable level. My breathing comes in sharp, short bursts, my chest tight and heavy.

Clearing my throat, I push the feelings away, refusing to back down. After a moment and few throat clearings later, the sensation is gone.

"You don't get it," he continues after a moment. "I'm trying to protect you. I'm trying to protect every—"

"Jasper Whitlock, get out here!" a familiar voice bellows from behind the pocket door.

Both of us jump, our attention diverted toward the living room. Neither one of us makes any move to open the door, remaining frozen in place, listening to the mumbled voices of Dad and Carlisle coming from the next room.

It takes me a moment, but I finally realize _I _have nothing to be apprehensive about; I'm not the one acting like a nut.

Jasper pulls me back as I reach for the door, looking more frightened than he did when he came back from the Cullen's place on Halloween. He's pale and wide-eyed, swallowing loudly as he shakes his head rapidly.

I know he doesn't want me to open the door, but what good would staying in here do? Dad obviously knows Jasper is in the house, and I'm sure Carlisle has told him exactly where he is.

Part of me feels bad for him; after all, he _is _my cousin ... hell, he's practically my brother. The other part of me, however, is pleased that he's going to get in trouble. He deserves it for his behavior _and _trying to separate me from my friend.

"Own it, jerk."

He scowls, but swallows once more, taking in a deep breath before reaching past me and opening the door. Alice and Edward sit at the top of the stairs, talking quietly. Alice has her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on top of her knees. Every so often, she nods at whatever Edward says, before looking away, toward us.

I smile at her, and her grin in response is small, missing its usual warmth and happiness.

Upon seeing Dad, he squares his shoulders, but his head lowers as he takes in Dad's disapproving glare.

"Jasper, I … there are no words," Dad starts, his voice low and even. "Your behavior regarding the Cullens, who are _good friends _of mine … not to mention your recent speeding? You nearly ran Deputy Mark off the road!" He pauses, taking a deep breath. "I can't believe you would be so reckless. I am so disappointed in you."

To me, this tone is so much impactful and guilt-inducing than someone raising their voice.

As if on cue, Jasper's tall posture crumbles, his shoulders curling inward, and his head drops further down, making him looked hunched and broken.

My eyes burn, and the center of my chest feels heavy as my skin heats. An overwhelming feeling to bow my head and hide away washes over me. Clearing my throat, I force myself to keep my head held high, reminding myself _I'm _not the one in trouble here.

Knowing Jasper is suffering tears at me, and I want to reach out and hug him, but I refrain, looking at Alice as she watches on, despondently. He's caused a lot of unnecessary grief and needs to own up to it.

"Uncle Charlie, I'm—"

Dad holds up a hand, immediately silencing him. "Not now. Renee," he calls, looking out the front door.

Seconds after he calls her, Mom glides in, gazing impassively at Jasper as she comes to stand between Dad and Carlisle. She barely spares me a glance, looking more serious than I've ever seen her.

"All of us are going to talk," she tells Jasper, waving at Dad, Carlisle, and herself. "Carlisle?"

Solemnly, he nods and leads Mom out of the room. Dad gives Jasper a pointed look, jerking his head toward Mom and Carlisle.

Jasper trails after them at once, with Dad closing behind him. Before he leaves the room, he turns to look at me.

"Bella, why don't you go home?"

"I was hanging out with Alice."

He looks as if he's going to argue, but doesn't. "Fine. Don't come near Carlisle's office, understand?"

I plaster on a look of a shock. "What do you take me for? I would never eavesdrop!"

"Wouldn't you?" he questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," I hedge. "But how would you know? Have you eavesdropped on me?"

He winks. "Where do you think you get it from?"

Chuckling under my breath, I head toward Alice, nudging her knee with my own. "Hey. You okay?"

She gives me a combination of a shrug and a barely-there smile, saying nothing.

I sigh heavily, wondering how I should proceed. I imagine if this was Rose pining over some guy, I'd tell her to find a better one because the one that's causing her this much hurt isn't worth it. With my biased feelings toward Jasper, I'm not sure I can say it and actually mean it.

Deep within me, I know the hard time Jasper is putting her through isn't worth her sadness. If he can't get his head out of his ass and stop being such a jerk, then she's better off.

"Jasper is stubborn," I start, keeping my voice low. "Always has been. I think it's a male thing."

This gets a more genuine smile from her, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Right now, he's scared, and when he's like that, he tends to act first and look at things later."

"I know," she murmurs. "You've told me."

"Okay, so I'll tell you again. Once he steps back and sees what he's doing, he'll realize he's being a jerk and apologize. It might be stilted and awkward, but he'll mean every word."

"I don't think so. Things …" she trails off, her nose wrinkled as she thinks. "Things haven't changed, I don't think."

"Something you know for certain?" I question pointedly, hoping she'll let me in.

Purposefully, she looks away, though her mumbled response is loud and clear. "Yes."

"Things change every day. I _know _my cousin. He's being stubborn and pig-headed now, but he always comes out of it. Now that my parents are fully involved, he'll step back and reevaluate."

Alice turns her head back toward me, giving me that same, barely-there smile. "It doesn't matter, not really. I just … I was looking forward to—" she trails off, a humorless laugh leaving her. "It doesn't matter. As long as you're my friend, that's all I care about."

She stops again, and we sit in silence for a long moment. Even though we're sitting next to each other, I feel as if there's a giant rift between us and there's nothing I can do about it.

There are a million things I want to say, but I have no idea how to say them. My friend is hurting, and despite her words about it being enough just being my friend, I know it's not; I know she's crushed by Jasper's rejection. I just wish I knew a way to make her feel better.

I would go for something cliché like there are plenty of fish in the sea, but with Alice's past behavior, I don't think that will work.

"I think I'm going to get out for a bit and collect my thoughts. Feel free to stay as long as your parents are here, okay? Thank you for coming over."

Once more, I sigh heavily, wishing I could do more to help my friend. At the moment, there's simply nothing I can do, and I hate it.

"Sure. Feel better."

Delicately, Alice drifts down the steps, meeting Victoria at the entrance of the living room. She opens her arms and tucks my small friend into her side. Shooting me a grateful smile, she leads Alice through the kitchen, toward the backyard.

I start to rise, intent on heading out, but Edward's voice stops me,

"Thank you for being kind to her."

Gracefully, he comes to stand next to me, looking into my eyes with an intensity that makes the skin on the back of my neck tighten and my heart race.

"She's my friend. I won't kick her while she's down."

He nods once, running a hand through his hair. "I know, but this thing with Jasper has been … she's never been like this before. With anyone. Quite frankly, I'm worried about her."

"She'll be fine," I state with confidence. "Whether Jasper apologizes or not, she'll be fine."

The look he gives me is patronizing, like a parent indulging their child when they believe the fairy tales they read are true, living stories. Annoyed, I roll my eyes and look away with a huff.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him trying to say something, but each time he opens his mouth, he closes it just as quickly, shaking his head in irritation.

After several minutes of awkward silence, he finally finds his words. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," I reply immediately.

One eyebrow raises high on his forehead. "Really? Because you look awfully tired," he remarks, his eyes drifting underneath my eyes, where the dark, purple-like bruises rest.

"You're such a charmer. Do you talk that way to everyone, or am I just special?"

A smirk lifts on his lips. "Just you. I bet you're happy, huh?"

"Thrilled," I deadpan.

"Seriously," he starts again, all traces of humor gone. "Are you okay?"

Clearing my throat, I shuffle down a step, brushing some hair behind my ears. To be honest, I _haven't _been okay.

My nightmares from Halloween night have been exceedingly and terrifyingly strong. To make matters worse, nothing seems to help drive them away, listening to music, reading, watching television … nothing relieves me from seeing Jess's blood over my body and hands.

I've tried to tell myself she's okay, that she's alive—thanks to Carlisle—but not even that works.

Now, I simply avoid going to sleep if I can help it, opting to load my body with caffeine, and spend my night reading and watching movies.

"I'm fine," I state more firmly, hoping he'll drop it.

He hums under his breath, his head tilted to the side as he stares unblinkingly. When I meet his eyes, I feel as if he's looking straight through me, reading my most personal thoughts and feelings; something I'm not keen about.

"Drop it. It's not your concern."

I don't receive a reply; instead he turns his head away, his eyes drifting down into the living room, where a very familiar figure walks in.

It's the man who saved me from Laurent, the one who I had seen with Victoria, the same one that was holding Alice on Halloween.

"Hello," he greets, tilting his head toward me. Like his companion, his eyes twinkle with mischief and deviance as he stares at Edward. "You must be Bella."

"I know we've kind of met before, but I don't _know _you. It's odd, everyone seems to know me, but I don't know them," I reply, casting a look at Edward, who stands closer to me as I reach the other man, who looks completely amused. "If I'm being honest, it's kind of annoying."

The man chuckles, bowing at the waist. "Forgive me. I'm James. Edward's Uncle."

He reaches for me but stops as Edward speaks, stepping forward and delivering a firm punch to his shoulder. "James, stop."

"It's the truth," he replies innocently, humor still playing out on his face.

"Who are you related to?" I ask, unable to quell the curiosity any longer.

Briefly, my eyes drift to the wall behind him, where a family portrait rests. Edward, like many of the pictures he's in, stands separately. He's brooding, a half frown and scowl on his face as he looks up through his eyelashes, looking extremely vulnerable and pissed off at the same time.

It's a rare combination that only he can seem to accomplish.

Jerk.

Moving from him, my gaze zeroes in on one person in particular, and immediately, the puzzle pieces click.

No wonder James looks so familiar to me; he shares so many features with a certain Cullen I can't believe I didn't see it before.

Loudly, I gasp, looking back at James with wide eyes. "You're Carlisle's brother!"

* * *

**So ... some revelations and a few hints dropped in this chapter. :) **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you have a good weekend! **

**Until next time!**


	27. Chapter 26

**Hello! Sorry for the delay with this one. RL made it difficult. :/ **

**Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, and puts this story on alert!**

**Big thanks to Fran, Monica03, and Mr G and me for all of their help. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight ... so let's get to the chapter. :)**

* * *

He smirks and nods once, folding his arms across his chest. The entire look of him from the expression on his face to his bare feet scream cocky.

"I am," he says with a nod, giving Edward a confused and pointed glance.

Edward shakes his head at the interaction, looking away with an irritated glare.

"Technically, I'm Carlisle's half-brother, but that doesn't matter. You're a smart girl. A lot smarter than some give you give credit for. If I were a betting man, I'd say you know a lot," he muses, rocking back on his heels.

I smirk in response. "I have to take people by surprise, don't I? And if I have to, I fake it 'til I can't make it."

James throws his head back in a laugh while Edward's head swivels over to me, his eyes comically wide, and his lips slightly parted. Marginally, his head tilts to the right the longer he stares, seemingly growing more annoyed with each passing second. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he's studying me, trying to decipher what's going on in my mind.

Raising an eyebrow, I tilt my own head, meeting his gaze unblinkingly. "You're giving me a complex. Stop staring, or I'll read too much into it … or I'll believe you're trying to get inside my head."

Jerking back, his mouth falls open as he begins to stutter, shoving one hand in his hair and pulling on the roots.

"That's absurd," he scoffs.

"It is," I agree with a shake of my head. "But strange things happen around here every day."

He begins to retort, but James releases another loud laugh. "Oh, you're good," he says, though it seems to be missing something, based on the knowing twinkle in his eye. "Are you a lover of the strange and unusual?"

"Of course. I have to show my species love."

He laughs once more, slapping a hand on Edward's shoulder and pointing in my direction. "Keep her around, Edward. I like her."

Scowling, Edward shrugs James' hand off his shoulder and mutters something under his breath.

Unbothered by his reaction, James merely smiles, humming something under his breath and rocking back on his heels. Edward keeps his glare on his smirking _uncle, _the pair of them locked in an unblinking showdown.

Quickly, I begin to feel like the odd person out. I feel as though I'm missing a huge part of whatever is going on here, but what, I don't know.

Out of nowhere, James releases a full belly laugh, bending at the waist and leaning his hands against his knees. I watch this for a handful of seconds before I follow Edward in feeling annoyed. Crossing my arms over my chest, I cock my hip out to the side and tilt my head at the strange man laughing in front of me.

"What's his problem?" I mumble to Edward. "Is he laughing at me? Cause if he is, we're gonna have issues."

Edward sighs harshly, shooting the man a hard look. "He's insane."

"Another one?" I have to wonder how many insane people are in his family because maybe I should rethink spending time with him. Then again, I really can't talk. There seems to be a boatload in mine.

"Unfortunately," he drawls. "That's why he and Victoria are such a perfect pair."

"Hey," James says, his laughter finally abating. "Don't put a label on me, brooder."

"My apologies."

James clicks his tongue against the roof his mouth at Edward's sarcastic response and eye-rolling. "There's no respect in today's youth anymore."

Carlisle steps into the room, a forced frown on his face as he eyes his brother. While he's trying to look annoyed, I can see the love shining clearly in his eyes.

"James, are you causing trouble again?"

"Always."

Now that they're standing side by side, it's so easy to see they're related. They have the same hair color and facial features. Their height is completely different, with Carlisle being a few inches taller, and their bone structure is different, with James having harder features than Dr. C, but it's still easy to see the similarities.

Accidentally, I laugh and feel like slapping myself for not seeing it sooner.

Though, to be fair, being cornered by a creep and scared to death doesn't help my detective skills.

The trio of Cullens give me inquisitive looks, and I feel like I have to explain.

"I just can't believe I didn't put together your relation before," I tell them, waving between the two brothers. "It's _so _obvious now."

James scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, affronted. "It's not _completely _obvious. I'm the better-looking brother."

Clearly having heard this before, Carlisle rolls his eyes. "Let's not start this argument again."

"Yes, let's not," Esme remarks, breezing into the room, coming to stand next to her husband's side. "First of all, this is _my _house and only my opinion matters … and you _know _my opinion," she tells him, placing a possessive hand on Carlisle's chest.

James rolls his eyes and huffs while Esme continues.

"Secondly, if you're going to _debate—_and I use that term loosely—you're going to take it outside. The last time you _destroyed _my house."

"That was an accident," James begins to argue.

Esme glares, though there's no force behind it. "So you say, but I know—"

"Thankfully," Edward says, leaning toward me, his lips quirking in amusement. "Carlisle got all the brains in the family."

James narrows his eyes at Edward but continues arguing with Esme. Carlisle stands in the middle, choosing to remain impartial, but I can see the humor dancing in his eyes.

"All kidding aside, James is a great guy. He's pretty smart and caring, and while we're not related to Carlisle or Esme, he loves us like we're his blood."

I nod in understanding, knowing the feeling. Jasper and Rose may not be my blood, but that doesn't make them any less my family. I would do anything for them … within reason.

For instance, right now, I don't plan on following Jasper's ridiculous pleas to stay away from the Cullens unless he gives me good reason.

Speak of the devil; Jasper slowly turns the corner, his head hanging down with my parents walking behind him. His hunched in shoulders, the pout on his face, and the look of dread in his eyes makes him seem as if he's walking down death row.

Shooting him an inquisitive glance, I gesture for him to walk over, taking a couple of steps away from Edward for privacy.

Edward turns toward me but doesn't move any closer, keeping watch on Jasper and me. Rolling my eyes, I turn so my back is facing him, giving myself the illusion of privacy.

"Well? What's the verdict?"

Jasper sighs, scrubbing a hand over my face. "I guess I'm going to have to … spend the day here."

I release a fake gasp, covering my mouth with both hands. "You poor thing. Will you … will you be okay?" I question, grasping one of his arms.

"I doubt it," he replies, his tone serious and foreboding. "No matter what Uncle Charlie says, I don't trust them. They'll probably kill and bury me—ouch!" he trails off, rubbing his upper arm with a look of astonishment after I punch him. "What was that for?"

I smack him once more for good measure. My jaw begins to ache, and there's a low crunching sound in my ears, a sure sign of my teeth clenched and grinding. Taking a deep breath, I attempt to calm myself, breathing deeply, but this time it doesn't work.

All I can think of are his harsh words and opinions toward people who have done nothing to warrant it, not to mention they're all within hearing distance.

"You're such a jerk," I hiss. "What happened to you? You used to be nice and give people a chance."

He steps closer, coming an inch away from my face. "That's before I learned the truth. And what about you? Huh? You used to believe me when I would tell you not to trust someone. What happened to that? I'm your _family_," he tells me, beating a fist against his chest once.

His complexion is slowly turning red, the muscles of his jaw taut and straining. Soon, things are going to escalate and probably come to raised voices and harsh exchanges of words with one or both of the parents stepping in between us before things get any farther.

Hopefully, I can get a few hits in, because honestly, he needs some sense smacked into him.

As soon as the thought comes, I regret it.

I really wish it hadn't come to this because I _hate _fighting with him, but I don't see any other option. In my opinion, Jasper is being completely unreasonable. One moment, he's best friends with Edward and Emmett and tentative friends with Alice, then, in the next moment, he's swearing up and down that they can't be trusted.

I wish I could understand his reasoning and thought process behind his actions, but I can't. Unless the Cullens are homicidal maniacs, I don't see any reason to treat them so horribly.

"You may be family, but you're also being a bastard," I hiss. "I love you, Jasper. You know I do … and you _know _you're my family. I would die for you. But this? Your behavior? It's extreme … and jeez, I feel like a broken record with this shit, but I'll say it again. You expect me to trust you, but for the _first time, _you won't give me an explanation. Why? Because you made a promise to someone I'm supposed to avoid? That makes a lot of sense."

"You're so delusional and—"

"Okay, knock it off," Edward says, stepping in between us. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he gently pushes Jasper back, coming to stand in front of me. One hand remains on Jasper's shoulder, while the other curls around my hip, pressing me close. "I know you're upset, but you don't need to get in her face like that."

Jasper sneers. "You don't know shit about me. I would _never _hurt her."

"Really?" Pointedly, Edward looks down at Jasper's hand, balled into a fist at his side. "It doesn't look that way."

Unafraid, Jasper gets into Edward's face, staring unblinkingly. "I would never hurt her," he tells him, drawing the words out slowly. "Some things, words, thoughts … they're just that. Unless you act on them, they're nothing."

Edward shrugs, indifferent. "Don't really care."

"Since when do you care about Bella?"

Glancing at me from the corner of his eye, Edward again shrugs. "My reasons don't matter. Just take a step back and calm down."

Incredulous, Jasper shakes his head, looking as if he sprouted a third eye or something. "I don't need to calm down. I need _you _to get—"

"Enough," Dad commands, staring sternly. "Jasper, go sit down."

"Yeah, go sit down, asshat," I mumble, still glaring daggers at him.

Glowering, he does as he's told, rigidly sitting on the couch with his hands on his knees. Studiously, he watches everyone from his vantage point, stiffening whenever someone moves. I can't believe he's acting this way; it's incredibly rude and disrespectful.

At the same time, it hurts to see him this way. I would expect this kind of behavior and attitude from Rose, but from Jasper? Especially toward the people he considers friends.

I just hope he snaps out this fast.

"Hey." Edward nudges my arm, tossing his keys into the air and catching them without looking. He nods toward the front door. "Let's get out of here."

Without waiting for a reply, he walks over and opens the door, waiting. Heading over to him, I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow.

"You're awfully presumptuous. What if I don't want to go out?"

Dismissively waving a hand and shrugging a shoulder, he nods. "Fine. Stay here. I just thought I'd offer you an out so you wouldn't have to deal with everyone's tempers."

He walks outside, and I look behind me to see Jasper still sitting like an angry statue, only this time is ire is directed in my direction.

Realizing right, Edward was, unfortunately, right, I rush through the open door after him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him along to the car.

"Don't say a word," I tell him, ignoring his low chuckle.

"About what? How I was right? Again?"

I blow a raspberry, sliding into the passenger seat. "What 'again'? You're hardly _ever _right. They may have been a couple of instances where you were in the right ballpark, but …" I trail off, raising my upturned palms in the air. "You can't be wrong all the time. Sometimes you get close."

"Is that what you tell yourself?"

I feign ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about; I've been wrong … and right. You, on the other hand, are a completely different story."

He hums and tries to look annoyed, but I can see the corners of his lips twitching as he rubs a hand over his face.

"Where are we going anyway, kidnapper?"

This time, he releases the humor he's been repressing, shoving his head into the headrest as he looks up, muttering.

"Jesus, you're a pain in the ass."

"Now, you know how I feel."

Shaking his head, he sighs, his fingers gently caressing the steering wheel slowly. I find myself staring at his long fingers stroking over the smooth buttery leather. It's strangely hypnotizing and makes my skin tingle and buzz; I suppose it's because I _know _what those fingers feel like against my own skin.

I stop suddenly, wondering if I want him to touch me or if I'm jealous of a little bit of leather.

"You okay?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. Humor swims in his gaze, and he's not even trying to hide the smile on his lips this time.

"Fine," I rush out, brushing my hands down the front of my jeans. "You still haven't told me where we're going. This is what makes people think you're a weirdo, weirdo."

He snorts. "Normal people wouldn't get in the car with me."

"True, but I'm not normal."

Pensively, he turns to stare at me for an uncomfortable amount of time … and it's not just because he's not watching the road while he drives.

"Very true," he murmurs at last. He clears his throat, shifting in the seat and straightening his posture. "We're going to Port Angeles. I figured it would be a good place to get away."

I hum in agreement. "It sure is. We definitely need it after everything that's happened."

My thoughts drift to Jess and Laurent, which then leads me to Lauren.

I don't like Lauren; in fact, it's one of the few times I can say with absolute certainty that I hate her. What she did to Rose was truly unforgivable. She was supposed to be her friend and instead threw her to the dogs for her own sick enjoyment. Or maybe that just because she could.

Whatever her reasons for her behavior, there's nothing she could say that would make it okay in my eyes.

Her behavior to Jess is also inexcusable. There's no reason to treat someone like shit just because they're different.

Despite my hatred of her, I don't want her to be hurt. She may deserve everything karma can throw at her, but to be tortured and killed by a psychopath? No one deserves that, no matter what you've done.

My only hope is that Laurent was lying when he said he disposed of her, but what purpose would he have to lie? To him, I'm no one besides his next victim, and I have no doubts he's now been taken care of, especially after what I saw at the haunted house.

The only thing I can do is continue to think positively and hope she'll turn up somewhere and be a better person than she was. It's a bit of a stretch considering her nasty attitude toward her own flesh and blood, but miracles do happen, and maybe this will be one of them.

"Is this … thing with Jasper really bothering you?"

Edward's question breaks me out of my thoughts, and I pause, thinking about it.

To be honest, his attitude _is _a big issue right now, on top of everything else going on. His complete three hundred and sixty-degree turnaround has opened my eyes to a new side of Jasper that I don't particularly like.

It's almost as if he and Rose have swapped personalities … and I don't like it at all.

However, I know that once he pulls the stick from his ass, he'll be back to the person I love the most. It's just getting there that's the problem.

"Kind of," I reply. "I know Jasper, and the way he's acting is definitely _not _him. He's just …"

"He's been through a lot."

"Something that no one has shared with me, by the way," I hedge, leaning my elbow on the center console and resting my chin in my palm. "Want to share? That way, I can help him."

At once, Edward shakes his head. "That's between him and us. Sorry."

I had expected this answer.

Forcing out a fake sneer, I push away and lean against the door with my arms folded and pretend to glare. Edward shakes his head with a low chuckle.

"You're such a child."

"Technically, I _am _a child."

"You're eighteen."

Dismissively, I wave. "Semantics."

"Should I get you a kid's meal somewhere then? Did you ask your parent's permission to play with me?"

"I'm not that much of a child, jerk."

Briefly, he raises his hands from the steering wheel before replacing them. "You could have fooled me … but I apologize."

"Sure you do."

After a minute of silence, Edward glances at me from the corner of his eye. "You weren't really upset, were you?"

I debate about whether or not I should drag this out. He seems concerned about my answer, which is puzzling and curious. I don't know why he would worry about whether or not I'm mad at him, and instead of answering, I decide to ask a question of my own.

"Why do you care?"

He pauses, his mouth opening a couple of times as he tries to answer, his face a mask of bewilderment. "I don't … I'm not sure," he finally says, freeing one hand to glide it through his messy locks. "We've been getting along pretty okay, recently. I guess it was to be friendly?"

"Aww," I coo, reaching over to grab at his cheek. He dodges me expertly, his lips pulling down in a frown, but he's not truly upset. "You were concerned about my feelings. Cute."

"Well, since I know you _have _them, I wanted to make sure they were still intact. I don't want to see you crying again."

I'm honestly touched by his kind words and don't know what to say, but Edward takes care of that.

"You're not a pretty crier. Your face gets red and blotchy … your eyes swell … I'm pretty sure there was snot." He playfully shudders, shaking his head adamantly. "Yeah, I don't want to see that again."

I force a laugh, and when he looks over, I flip him off with a sneer, fighting my smile as he boisterously laughs, the rich sound reverberating around the car.

"To answer your question, no, I'm upset. I _know _what happened," I smugly tell him, crossing my arms confidently.

At my response, he shifts, resting one elbow on the middle console as the car slows when he enters Port Angeles's city limits. He raises an eyebrow, tapping his index finger against his bottom lip.

"Really? You know what happened on Halloween night at our house with Jasper just like that, huh?"

I swallow thickly, noting his proximity to my face. He's so close I can feel every burst of air as he speaks, and the closeness, along with the slightly sweet scent of his breath is doing things to my head.

"Yep, I sure do," I tell him, my voice embarrassingly low and somewhat breathy sounding. Once I realize this, I pinch the side of my thigh and wince at the harsh sting.

Edward hums, turning his face away and offering a slight reprieve from his intense voodoo stare. I breathe a sigh of relief, taking a moment to collect myself as he finds a parking spot.

Once he's parked, he turns back to me, resting his elbow on the middle console again, leaning toward me and forcing me back into the passenger side window.

He follows me as I move, his eyes glancing from mine to my lips and back again. Smugly, I notice that _he _swallows thickly, his breathing coming in uneven exhales.

With amazing and envy-inducing speed, he collects himself quickly, his face impassive as he leans closer. "Why don't you tell me?" he whispers, sounding almost hypnotic. "That way, we can have it all out in the open then."

Instantly, I know what he's trying to do. He's messing with me, and I'm going to mess with him back.

"That's a good idea," I whisper in return, leaning closer to him. He swallows thickly again, his gaze rapidly flitting between my eyes and lips once more. "We should definitely have everything out in the open."

Slowly, he nods, gradually leaning further into me until our noses are practically touching. I find myself wanting to close the distance between us, remembering the last kiss we shared in this car. While it was bruising and intense, it was still the best I've had.

Strangely, I wouldn't be too upset about it if it were repeated at this moment.

I hold strong, however, not wanting to let this golden moment fade. I have him right where I want him, and I can't succumb to his charms. If I do, I'll never hear the end of it.

"Well? What do you know?"

"I know a lot. But I'm not going to tell you. I have my secrets too."

I pull back slightly, allowing him to see my smirk. He huffs a laugh, his head falling forward, and the ends of his hair tickle my chin as he does so. Lightly, I shiver but manage to control my reaction when he looks back up at me.

"You're a pain in the ass."

Squinting my eyes, I tap a finger against my pursed lips. "You know, I _think _I've heard that somewhere before … it was from someone who … yes, it was from a stubborn know-it-all who thought he could charm me all the time. He's such an ass."

Edward sucks air through his teeth. "Sounds like it."

"He is. And so egotistical too. Yikes. I'd hate to be that guy."

"Oh, definitely." He nods with a solemn expression. "I know I can't charm you all the time. You're too hard-headed to do that."

I snort. "Takes one to know one."

He ignores me, continuing. "But, I _can _tell what you're thinking."

My heart begins to hammer away in my chest as I raise a curious eyebrow, wondering if this true. After all, I would never guess Alice could see the future. Is it possible he's gifted too? The thought of mind reading is a bit of a stretch, but then again, so are a lot of things.

Clearing my throat, I reposition myself in the seat, at the same time reminding myself to maintain eye contact with him.

"Really? What am I thinking right now?"

I focus on a few select words, so if there _is _a chance he's telling the truth, he'll have no trouble picking them out in my mess of a brain.

Moments later, however, I realize he's just full of shit as frustration clearly colors his face.

"You're so full of shit," I laugh. "Reading my mind, yeah, sure."

"I can!"

"Uh-huh. Okay."

"Really," he says, quite seriously. "I can."

"Okay, sure. I'll give you one more test. What am I thinking right now, at this very moment?"

Straightaway, as if knowing I'm on to him, his face smooths, and he smirks, leaning close to me again. "You want to kiss me."

I pause, wondering if _he can_ read my thoughts, but that's not what I was thinking about at this moment. Sure, I thought about it earlier, but as I think back to all of our interactions, there hasn't been an instance where he's given away that he can read my mind.

Now that the thought is back there, however, it's all I can think about … and that's exactly what he wants; I can tell by the smirk he's fighting.

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. "I think that's what _you _want. You keep bringing it up an awful lot. I mean, I know I'm a catch, but give a girl some space," I tease, reaching for the door handle.

His hand slides around my left, his fingers smoothly gliding over my wrist. He stares intently into my eyes, and the penetrating emotion radiating from them has me frozen.

"Bella," he breathes, his fingers still gliding over the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist. "You know you want to kiss me."

He can't continue without laughing, and I find myself laughing as well. Playfully, I push his shoulder, rolling my eyes again.

"What are you? Five? Come on," I gesture toward the door, finally opening it. "Let's do … whatever we're going to do."

"Deny it all you want," he says with a heavy sigh. "But lying to yourself isn't the answer."

"Yeah, you're so irresistible … the mysterious new guy that can read minds," I reply, reaching up to dance my fingers over his forehead. "What completes the trifecta?" I pause, tapping a finger on my lips. A moment later, I snap my fingers. "I know! You're a vampire!"

He freezes, still as a statue, his face locked in shock and surprise. Unable to help myself, I laugh boisterously, my chuckles filling the air as I lean against the car. Through the windshield, I notice Edward is staring pensively at me as if he's trying to figure out some riddle.

After a long moment, he shakes his head, meeting me at the front of the car, holding an arm out in invitation. Stepping up to his side, I feel a light pressure against the small of my back, and briefly, I wonder if he's resting his hand there. I want to look, but at the same time, I don't.

In the end, I decide to let it pass.

He probably accidentally brushed against me or something.

"Bella, why—" he starts, but immediately claps his lips closed, huffing an astonished chuckle.

"Why what?" I continue. "Why is the sky blue? Why is the Earth round? Why are you so annoying? These are questions we'll never have answers for."

"I know the answers," he replies, his voice haughty and smug. I stick my nose in the air with a sniff, mimicking him, but he ignores me and continues. "The answer to your last question is _you. _You drive me insane!"

"Ditto."

Edward leads us to the music and art store, where I jump in the air once, grinning broadly. He chuckles, holding the door out for me, and I rush inside. I start to call out to Kevin but pause as I see Sandy, his assistant manager.

She gives us a barely-there smile and a lukewarm greeting. Her eyes remain downcast as her fingers twist at the tie-dyed shirt in her hands.

Stepping forward, I swallow past the lump in my throat and place my hands on the counter, nervously drumming my nails. Edward's hand covers mine, and when I look up, I see him frowning down at me, his eyebrows pinched together in worry.

Meeting my gaze, he smiles, but it's not genuine.

"Hey, Sandy. How are you?"

Like Edward, she plasters on a fake smile, giving a jerking shrug as her eyes fill with tears. I have to hand it to her; her tears don't fall. She blinks them back and straightens her shoulders, trying to look happy.

She doesn't succeed.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I'm okay," I murmur and gesture toward Edward as an afterthought when I see her staring curiously at him. "This is Edward."

He dips his head in greeting but says nothing more as he stands at my side. Sandy's lips quirk as a humorous glint appears in her eyes, but it fades just as quickly as it came.

"Nice to meet you, Edward. It's nice to have a face with the name," she tells him. "You must be someone special if you're here with Bella."

As if he had been shocked, Edward snatches his hand away but doesn't move from my side.

"We're, uh—"

"We're not—" we say at the same time.

Sandy nods, her lips quirking once more. "I see. Well, I'll leave you two to your browsing. Let me know if you need anything."

I nod and step away, following after Edward, but pause, turning back to Sandy. "Have you … heard anything? About Kevin?"

Sandy slowly shakes her head, her eyes glassy. "No," she whispers. "Not a thing. We're all so worried about him. He doesn't have any other family besides all of us here at the store. The police … they think he … well," she trails off, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "Let's just say, they don't think we'll have good news. They're still looking, but as more time goes on …"

Knowing what she's referring to, I nod. The chances of a missing person being found rapidly decrease the longer they're missing, and each day Kevin and the others aren't found, it means less good news for everyone that loves them.

"He'll be okay," I tell her, my voice cracking. I clear my throat and try again. "He'll be okay. He's a tough old bird, wherever he is."

Sandy laughs in agreement. "Yeah, he is. I just want him back _here, _you know? It's not the same."

Not knowing what else to say, I attempt a smile and step away, and the tears I had been holding back finally fall.

Edward frowns once more, his face radiating nothing but sympathy as he wraps an arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. Hastily, I wipe away the moisture from my cheeks with my sleeves, giving a short laugh.

"Sorry. I feel so stupid."

Honestly, I do. I never wanted to cry again, especially in front of him, but with this latest news of Kevin, it makes me wonder if any of the other missing people will be found.

Like Arthur.

He's still missing as far as I know. Otherwise, I'm sure Dad would have told me.

It pisses me off that people think they have the right to mess with people this way. What right do they have to take someone? To tear them away from their lives, from their families for their own sick amusement?

I have no doubt Laurent was responsible for most of the disappearances, if not all of them. I can only hope, however, that he's paying for his crimes.

"It's never stupid to care for someone. Come on, I'll buy you something," he teases, leaning toward me, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. They glide up to my temple and linger there before he pulls back.

Playfully, I narrow my eyes. "I'm not that easy to buy off. But," I sing-song with a smirk as I continue. "Since the offer is out there, I'll let you buy me something. Maybe multiple somethings. Who knows?"

"How gracious of you."

"I know."

We spend nearly an hour in the store, browsing the aisles, and pointing out things we like. By the time we make it back to the front of the store, Edward has picked up a new notebook for his studies and practically snatched the pencil set I had been eying right from my hands.

"Give it back!" I argue, attempting to reach around him and grab it back. "I can pay for my own shit, you know."

"I know," he counters, fluidly evading my hands. "But I told you I would buy you something, and I am. I'm a man of my word."

"That's very … kind and noble of you, Sir Edward of Asshat-ville, but again, I can buy my own things. Give it to me."

Shaking his head, he slides the items across the counter, deftly blocking me from touching anything. He quickly pays and bids the cashier a good day before leading the way out of the store.

As a counteroffer, I gather the correct amount of money to pay him back and hand it to him once we're in front of the store.

"Here."

He doesn't even look at my hand before he's shaking his head, some hair flopping down in his eyes. He brushes it back with a sweep of his hand, making it stand taller on his head.

"Stop it. I told you I was going to buy you something, and you agreed, I might add. So, no, I won't take your money."

"I was just joking about that," I tell him, persistently holding the money to him. "Take this. Please."

"No."

Growling under my breath, I attempt to stuff it in the pocket of his gray pea coat, but he quickly wraps his arms around me, locking my hands at my sides. He leans down, the tip of his nose touching mine.

"Will you please stop trying to give me money? I don't want it. I'm not into that kind of business."

"What business?" I question, confused.

"I'm not an escort."

"Ugh," I groan, lightly pushing him away. "Too bad; you'd make a killing." Before he can say anything more, I continue. "I don't want you paying for my things. I'm more than capable of—"

"I never said you weren't," he interrupts, a slight edge of frustration seeping into his words. "Just … look, it's a gift, okay?"

Angrily, his nostrils flare, and I realized I pushed this too far. If I were in his place, I would be pretty pissed if my good gesture was being refused too. Taking a deep breath, I nod once and freeze, the action moving our lips in the right position for kissing.

We both freeze in place, eyes wide and unblinking. We stay like this for a long moment until the slightest amount of pressure is added—from him or me, I'm not sure. I just know one minute we're frozen with our lips barely touching to trying to get as close as we can while exchanging panting breaths.

After a long moment, he swallows thickly and steps back, running a hand through his hair. He blows out a heavy breath, shaking his head as he looks away, seemingly lost in thought.

"Ready to go somewhere else?"

I'm surprised by his blasé attitude regarding what happened. I expected him to say something sarcastic, but I guess he's just going to ignore it.

Well, the bad news for him is, I'm not going to let him.

"Why did you kiss me?"

He shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. "I had to get you to stop arguing somehow."

I flip him off, and he smirks in response.

I should have known.

8*8*8*8*8

The rest of the day is spent walking around, browsing. Multiple times, I tried to buy him something he seemed interested in, but he thwarted my attempts with a frustrating shake of his head.

Luckily for me, the store I saw something in has online shopping.

An hour and a half later, we head to lunch. The girl behind the counter does a double-take upon seeing Edward and smirks, shooting him a flirty wink as she smooths the front her shirt. I roll my eyes and groan under my breath, realizing he has another admirer.

Things quickly change, however.

Edward becomes extremely uncomfortable. He's sighs heavily, rakes a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots as he glares unblinkingly at the worker behind the counter, who loses her confidence pretty quickly.

I'm honestly a little scared _for _her, considering how pissed he looks.

"What is your problem?" I grind out, glaring at him over the small paper menu I was given when we walked in. "You're gonna give that poor girl a heart attack."

Confused, his eyebrows pinch together, and I nod toward the scared woman near the kitchen, clutching her apron so tight it leaves severe wrinkles in the fabric. She's gone pale, and her eyes are wide, with lips pressed together so tightly they're practically gone.

Frantically, she gestures toward our table, looking close to tears as her co-worker tries to calm her down.

She manages a stiff smile as her friend points in our direction and races off toward the back. The woman she was talking to shakes her head and offers a friendly wave, coming to stand in front of the register.

"I'm terribly sorry about Kara's behavior. What can I get for you?"

It's obvious Edward isn't going to speak; he still quietly brooding, eyes narrowed, and jaw clenched.

"Uh, I think I need a few more minutes."

The woman nods, pleasantly smiling, and steps back. "No problem. Just holler when you're ready."

Once she disappears in the kitchen, I round in on Edward.

"What is your problem? Do you enjoy scaring the crap out of people?"

"Nothing," he replies, a bit tersely. "Sorry."

I snort, pursuing the menu once more. "It's not _me _you have to apologize to … for once. What did she do to incur your wrath, anyway? Did she steal your stuffed animal? Tell you Santa wasn't real?"

Comically, Edward's eyes widen as shock colors his features. "Santa isn't real?"

Exhaling a laugh, I deliver a swift kick in his shin, but only end up hurting myself. As pain radiates up my leg, I hide my pain well and only wince when he looks away.

"Seriously, I say after a long moment. What happened?"

"She was just …" he sighs, trailing off. "It's nothing. I'm going to stand … over here."

Vaguely, he waves toward the farthest corner of the restaurant, leaning his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes.

Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I shake my head and heave a sigh.

"Such a drama queen."

A low keening squeak erupts from behind me, and I turn to see Kara poking her head out from behind the kitchen door. She breathes a sigh relief when she sees me alone. I'm tempted to chuckle at her reaction, considering most people—myself, included—have felt that way once they were faced with Edward's bad side.

"Your freaky guy gone?"

One of my eyebrows raises at her tone. "Pardon?"

"The guy that was in here with you," she replies slowly. "Where did he go?"

I'm tempted to tell her he's still here, out of her eyesight, just to see what her reaction will be, but I hold off. Maybe Edward will make a surprise appearance and scare the crap out of her; that'll be something to see.

"Not here, obviously."

I really don't like her attitude, especially with what she's insinuating. Now, I'm regretting coming here at all and debating if I should just walk out. I really would, except this place has the best burgers in town.

"You two are perfect for one another, aren't you?" she mutters. And while I don't think she intended for me to hear her, I heard every last word. Before I can question her on what she means, she continues on, oblivious to my glare. "Thank goodness. He's super-hot and all, but he looks dangerous. There's something about him, though."

She trails off, lost in thought, and while I don't her like attitude, I know what she's feeling well. Edward is definitely an enigma, one that's frightening, alluring, and curious all at once. It makes you want to learn all of his secrets while getting the hell away from him as fast as you can.

"Can you take my order?" I ask when it's obvious she's not going to do anything.

Muttering under her breath, she rolls her eyes and drums her fingers on the plastic surface of the counter. "Well?"

"A number three."

After I pay her and my food is made, I quickly book it out of there. I turn and glance back at Kara, smirking as she pales when she sees Edward stepping up beside me, throwing the door open with a dramatic flair. Ordinarily, I would call him out on this type of behavior and bust his balls, but I'm thoroughly enjoying the effects of the show he's putting on.

As we walk, I unwrap my burger and take a huge bite, resisting the urge to moan out loud at the flavor.

"So, what was your deal back there anyway?" I question after I swallow my first bite.

I'm hoping my question will distract him from his curious staring as I eat, but from the way he keeps looking back at me, I can see my plan has failed.

"What do you mean?"

"Stop staring at me as I eat, dude. It's weird," I tell him through a mouthful. When he looks away, I continue. "I mean, what happened in the restaurant? You were pissed."

He shrugs and huffs, shaking his head once. "She … I didn't like something."

"That much was _clearly _obvious. What was it? What didn't you like?" I ask, hoping he'll clarify. Honestly, I didn't even notice her looking at us in any certain way … but then again, I wasn't paying attention until I saw her try to escape from Edward's glaring.

"Her thoughts; she was disgusted by the thought of us together."

My first initial reaction sends a big _fuck you _to the girl, because while we drive each other crazy, we have a kinship I can't deny. He shares my sense of humor and sarcastic mouth, plus, he's not too bad to look at either.

I'm not vain or anything, but I'm not completely unattractive either. Although, I can see the shock value in seeing us together. Edward is clean and, to be honest, high-ish society looking. He looks better suited for Rose or a cheerleader, rather than someone who wears black eyeliner, dark berry lips, and has multi-colored streaks in her hair.

But hey, everyone needs to visit the dark side every once in a while, right?

So, I say again, screw her. For all she knows, Edward just puts on an act, and he's really a freak … which is most likely the case.

When I get all of that out of my system and digest everything else, I dive in.

"How do you know that?" Seconds later, the answer comes to me, and I snort, trying not to choke on my food. "Oh, right. I forgot. You can_ read minds. _Very cool."

"You don't believe me, but I _can _read minds. That's what she was thinking. Honest." His reply is so serious and coupled with the look on her face, I'd say that would be a pretty good guess if I were messing with someone.

The next several minutes are spent in silence as I methodically chew my food.

A part of me doesn't doubt him; deep down, I know he's telling the truth. After all, I've seen Alice's _special _abilities, and I've witnessed a lot of weird shit with Rose and Jasper, so it's not completely far off.

The only thing I can't understand is why doesn't Edward respond to _my _thoughts? I've had enough of them where there should be _some _kind of reaction, but he gives me nothing.

No reaction, no answers, not even a scowl … and that just makes me think he's bullshitting me.

"For argument's sake, we'll say I believe you."

"You're humoring me," he concludes, a mixture of resignation and relief etched on his features.

"Absolutely," I coo. "So, we're going back now, right?" I question, covering my mouth to hide the food I'm in the process of chewing.

Edward returns to his staring, I stop walking, giving him a pointed look. Catching my meaning, he looks away.

"Yeah, we are."

"Can we stop somewhere on the way? I need to go see someone."

Quickly, he turns back to me; his eyebrows pinched together. "Who?"

"Jess. Dude, stop staring at me eating. It's not that fascinating," I finally tell him.

"How would you know?"

"Do you find it fascinating?" I raise an eyebrow, hoping he doesn't. The thought of finding someone _chewing _and swallowing food is disgusting to me.

"Of course not," he scoffs, focusing on the sidewalk underneath his feet.

I can see a spark of embarrassment in his features, but before I can call him out on it, he rushes to change the subject. "Why do you want to see Jess? Is she okay?"

"Physically, she's fine," I reply honestly.

It's where she is mentally that I'm most concerned about; if she's like me, she might be having nightmares, and I want to be sure she's doing okay on that front. Moreover, I figure seeing her at home, healthy and okay will hopefully help ease my own bad dreams.

"Hey," Edward softly says, his fingers sliding over the back of my hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." My answer is too quick to be believable, but I don't care. I continue eating and increasing my pace, wanting to deter any further questions.

"You're lying."

His tone is casual as if he's talking about the weather. The subtle incline of his head toward me and the thin press of his lips say otherwise.

Taking a moment, I pause and study him, trying to figure out whether he really knows I'm lying or whether he's calling my bluff and hoping I'll cave. It's too difficult to tell; these Cullens can be masterful hiders when they want to be.

When they're not completely taken off guard, and I call them out on it, that is.

Instead of replying, I finish the last of my burger and shrug as I toss my trash into a nearby can. "I'm not. I want to see my friend. I'm concerned about her."

We're left in an odd stand-off, which shouldn't be odd anymore at this point. It seems like staring contests and waiting to see which one of us will cave first is our thing now.

After several moments, Edward breaks contact first, and mutters something under his breath as he shoots me a scowl from beneath his eyelashes. I have no doubt it's nothing good about me, but I don't care.

I've won this round.

Gloating, I swagger over to his car and giggle under my breath at his irritated expression. His glower deepens, which only causes my laughter to get louder. Soon, I find myself leaning against the car and laughing loudly, not caring that people are gawking.

"Are you done now?"

Instead of looking put out or annoyed, he appears amused, and I realize I must have made a fool of myself, but I don't care. His grumpy expressions are too hilarious for words.

"I'm done. Let's go."

Without another word, I get into the car and tap on his window when he doesn't immediately follow me. Nearly a minute passes, and he still hasn't gotten in, so I climb over the seat and peer up, finding him pensively staring off into space with a bewildered look on his face.

More forcefully now, I knock on the window. He jumps back and immediately makes a shooing motion when he sees me in the driver's seat.

Rolling my eyes, I climb back over to my side. The skin on the back of my neck warms and tightens, making me aware of just how much my ass is sticking in the air.

Could he be watching me climb over? Would he say anything?

As stealthily as I can, I peer over my shoulder, using my hair to hide my line of sight. He's looking all right, but it's not like I expected. Instead of looking aroused or intrigued as most men would, he merely looks baffled.

My mind runs a mile a minute, wondering why he looked like that.

Thinking back to our earlier conversation, I realized just how helpful mind-reading would be for me, especially with Edward.

On second thought, though, his head is probably just as much a mess as mine is, if not more.

"What?" I inquire, sounding a little too defensive to my own ears.

"Self-conscious, are we?"

I scoff. "Hell no. I'm perfectly happy with the way I look, thank you."

Strangely, he seems satisfied with my answer and gives a small smile and nod. "That's nice to hear. Not a lot of teenagers are."

"Here we go again with you talking like you're a hundred," I groan theatrically, banging my head on the headrest.

"Well, if you really want to know ..." he begins, a teasing tenor to his words.

"I already know. You're immortal, remember?"

He hums, his lips pressed tightly together as he cuts his eyes over to me periodically. "Do you really believe that? You're more gullible than I thought."

"Me?" I reply with a sniff. "You still believe in Santa. That's sad."

"Why do you keep saying that? Santa is real."

"I guess you'd know," I murmur.

"You're right." A piercing laugh escapes him, and I can't help but join in. When our humor fades, silence lingers, but it's not uncomfortable or tense.

It's relaxing and easy.

I like it. A lot.

"Bella, what do—"

"Are you—"

We speak at the same time and pause, waiting for the other to resume speaking.

"Go ahead—"

"Go on—"

Once more, we speak at the same time, and this time, Edward chuckles lowly with a wry grin. Lapsing into silence and stares again, we both wait for the other to speak, but it's obvious neither one of us is going to take that leap.

Like he's in school, Edward raises his hand and points a finger in the air before aiming it at himself. Finding this funny but not wanting to let him know, I bite the side of my tongue and nod.

"You can laugh," he tells me. "I know I'm a riot."

"Yeah, you're a comedian."

"I know. I'm simply the best at everything."

"Sure you are," I tell him. In my lap, my fingers twitch, wanting to pinch his cheeks to complete my sarcastic quip, but I refrain and squeeze my hand into a fist. "What were you going to say?"

All traces of humor and teasing vanish, replaced with caution and indifference. He clears his throat in a completely uncharacteristic gesture, looking intently into my eyes.

"Bella, what do you—" he stops himself short this time, the words breaking off. He growls lightly under his breath, raking a hand through his hair and tugging roughly at the roots.

"You'll go bald," I murmur, pointing toward his hand. "It won't be a good look for you."

Jerking his hand away, he sighs heavily and continues to bore his gaze into mine. I grow uncomfortable with this quickly; the urge to squirm and blurt out what his problem is, rests on the tip of my tongue. However, before any of that can happen, he mutters something under his breath and shakes his head, looking away.

I can't be certain, but I swear I heard him utter, "it's not possible."

I want to ask what he thinks isn't possible, but something stops me. Instead, I push his arm and nod toward the steering wheel.

"Can you drive now?"

His index finger taps heavily on the steering wheel. "You're ordering me around? I'm not your servant."

"Technically, you offered to take me to Port Angeles, so you kinda are. Drive, please." I wait a moment before continuing. "See? I said, please."

"You're a pain in the ass."

"I have multiple pains in my ass. The first one is from sitting here too long. The second, of course, is you. As always," I say with a drawl.

His gaze remains impassive as he starts the car. For a moment, I don't think I'll get a reaction from him, which is kind of disappointing. It's not until I turn my attention forward that I hear choked laughter coming from him.

Causally, I turn and see his face is neutral, his hands loosely draped over the steering wheel, gently maneuvering the vehicle on the road. Briefly, I wonder if I was hearing things, but the humor in his eyes and the twitch of his lips tell a different story.

"What's your game here, Edward? Trying to make me think I'm crazy?"

"You mean you don't know?" he questions with fake shock before sucking air through his teeth. "Sorry to break it to you this way."

I force a laugh before letting it die suddenly. "Hysterical. Can you drop me off at Jessica's?" I proceed to ramble off her address and sit back stoically.

He smirks and continues in silence, stealing looks at me periodically while I ignore him. I last approximately seven minutes until his choked laughter grows louder.

Whipping around, I try to remain angry, but immediately I see the mirth swimming in his eyes and know he was trying to get a rise out of me.

Pushing his arm, I force a scowl. "What are you? Five? Really mature, Edward."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I turn toward the window where I'm free to release my smile. Luckily, I'm able to hold in my laughter by pretending to huff.

"You're not fooling me, Swan," he says. "You think I'm funny. Just admit it."

I dodge his attempts to touch me, smacking his hands away whenever they're close.

"It's pity laughter," I snap. "I hate to break it to you, but you're not as funny as you think you are. You're incredibly dull and boring. Like my grandfather."

Edward's lips purse, but there's still humor underneath his phony irritation. "I'm an old soul. Sue me."

"Maybe I will; emotional distress and psychological scarring." I nod once. "Yep. I'll never be the same after this afternoon. I'll cry at random times or laugh for no reason. I'll be skittish around every single person I come across and never trust their intentions. Then, I'll have no choice but to buy a house in the middle of nowhere, becoming a recluse—"

I trail off at his astonished and puzzled expression. It's a look I've seen many times from Rose. If I were betting person, I'd bet he's wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

Like Rose often is.

"Where do you … how do you come up with these things?"

I shrug, picking at my cuticles. "Don't know; it just pops up in my head and unravels."

"Huh," he replies with astonishment, shaking his head and blinking slowly. "All right, then."

Getting the feeling he's labeling me as crazy, I stick my tongue out at him, making sure there's no doubt in his mind. He doesn't look at me fully, but I see his eyes peer in my direction, and once more, he shakes his head but doesn't comment.

Finally, we arrive at Jess's house and hastily, I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the car door, only to be pulled back.

"Bella … your word vomit, generally craziness and frustrating everything aside … I had a nice time," he admits shyly, briefly looking up through his eyelashes. "It was … nice. Nicer than I've had in a long time."

I'm flustered by his words, not expecting him to say such a thing, especially to me. My mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out.

Taking my silence the wrong way, Edward clears his throat, and the muscles of his jaw tighten as he grinds his teeth. Gradually, he pulls his hand back, and realizing my moment is quickly slipping away, I reach for him.

His eyes widen as he stares down at my hand, which I quickly snatch back.

"I, uh, had a … nice time too. It was a great distraction from the whole hell-fest that was at your house. Thanks."

A small, shy smile tugs at his lips before he schools his expression into one of indifference. "No problem. I figure we should _attempt _to get along since you're friends with my sister, and I'm friends with Jasper … not to mention Rosalie and Emmett."

"You've noticed, too, huh?"

Uncharacteristically, Edward rolls his eyes and lightly scoffs. "He's not exactly subtle."

I nod with a laugh. "Yeah. Rose isn't either." I pause for a moment before climbing out of the car again. "Thanks for the ride. We'll have to do this again."

My eyes widen at the words, wondering what the hell possessed me to say such a thing and what Edward's reaction will be.

Surprisingly, he doesn't show an ounce of shock or repulsion. "Definitely. Text me whenever, and I'll come pick you up."

"What makes you think I have your number?"

He smirks. "Bella, we've been over this; you want me."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, that's it, for sure."

"See? Told you."

"Uh-huh. So, now you're at my beck and call, huh? I like it, servant."

"Don't let it go to your head. This all a ruse to leave you stranded at home to scar you for life, courtesy of your cousin and my brother."

My face twists in disgust. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You're welcome."

I point a finger in his direction. "Don't get too cocky. Karma will come for you."

"She already has; her name is Bella."

"Thank you!" I beam as if it's the nicest compliment I've ever received, and he laughs, shaking his head incredulously as he murmurs something under his breath.

Moments later, he's leaning across the seat, angling his head in an uncomfortable position to see me. "Do you want me to wait? I can give you a lift back to your house."

"Thanks, but no. I live two streets over. I can manage."

"You sure? You seem to get into trouble easier than anyone I've met."

"I'll be on my best behavior, and I'll be fine, worrywart," I promise, holding up two fingers. "See ya later."

Edward doesn't seem pleased with my response, but nods, and pulls out of the driveway as I step onto the porch.

Jess's Mom answers the door with a beaming smile, pulling me into an uncomfortable hug the moment she sees me. Kindly as I can, I pull back so I can dislodge her frizzy hair from entering my mouth.

"I'm so glad you stopped by! Jessica will be so happy to see you!"

"Sorry, it was unannounced. I meant to call, but—"

Mrs. Stanley dismissively waves. "I told you, stop by anytime. You're always welcome here."

"Thank you," I reply, following her back to Jess's room. Through the door, I hear her quiet and bashful voice stuttering, making me wonder if she's sleeping or talking to someone. "How is she?"

"She's doing well. She hasn't been sleeping well, but the doctor said that's to be expected. She's going to be fine, though. She's fine," she repeats, mostly to herself.

"Jess is strong," I tell her, fulling believing my words. "If anyone can get through the aftermath, it's Jessica."

Mrs. Stanley nods in agreement, delivering a firm knock to Jess's door. "Jessica, honey, you have a visitor."

"Co-come i-in."

Heading inside, I see her shove her cell phone underneath her covers. I raise an eyebrow at the action, noting the reddening of her cheeks.

"Hey, Jess."

She gives a shy grin, waving once and patting the space beside her.

I take a seat, noting how good she looks. She still has a bandage on her neck, and her color is still slightly pale, but I'm happy to note she has more color, and there's a sparkle in her eyes I've never seen before.

"How are you?"

"I-I'm go-good. Ge-getting be-better ev-ever-every da-day."

"Awesome," I reply, squeezing her hand.

From underneath her blankets, her phone buzzes every few seconds, leading me to believe she's getting texts.

"Am I keeping you from something? Or someone?"

She blushes, toying with the fringe of her blanket. There's a long moment of silence as she silently debates whether or not to tell me.

"I-it's Ty-Tyler," she confesses, timidly.

My eyebrows rise into my hairline at the news, but she doesn't notice and continues.

"H-he ca-came t-to se-see m-me wh-while I wa-was i-in th-the hos-hospital. We-we're cl-close."

If it were anyone else, I would be suspicious, but Tyler is a good guy. Sure, he's a jock, but he's not the typical jock you see in movies and television. He's actually smart and kind; I know he's a good match for my friend, and he'll treat her with the respect she deserves.

"Tell me everything."

8*8*8*8

Half an hour later, after happily listening to Jess gush about all the things Tyler has done for her, I arrive home the same time as my father and Jasper.

Dad looks extremely satisfied and swaggers up to the house with a cocky smirk while Jasper follows behind him with a confused and brooding expression, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

"Hey, Jasper. Everything good?"

"Huh?" he asks, still lost in thought. "No, yeah … everything is fine."

"Okay," I reply, drawing out the word. "How was your day?"

His distracted attitude makes me wonder what happened and what he saw to make him so thoughtful. There are a thousand questions I want to ask him, but I don't get the chance.

He shuffles past me without a glance, his eyes trained on the ground.

"Jasper—"

"I'm fine," he replies. "I'm going to my room."

"That's fine, Jasper. Take your time," Dad answers, patting his shoulder once. "I'll call you for dinner."

Jasper mumbles a response, but instead of a snarky comeback, Dad simply looks pleased.

"What's that about?"

Dad plasters an innocent expression on his face. "What?"

"That look … that cat that got the canary look."

He shrugs, still cockily grinning. "Let's just say, Jasper has a lot to think about."

"What—"

"Charlie," Mom says, throwing open the door, a slightly panicked look on her face. "Get in here."

Dad's smugness fades into one of concern as he follows Mom inside, questions falling from his lips. I head inside myself, rolling my eyes at the scene on the couch.

Rose and Emmett are snuggled together in front of the television, their hands entwined on Emmett's knee, their heads pressed close together as they whisper and exchange soft kisses.

"Do I have to expect this when I come now? Seeing this sickening display in a common area? You have a bedroom, you know."

"Wha-what? Bella!" Dad bellows from the kitchen. "Are you trying to kill me? Forget getting shot; I'll have a heart attack thanks to my daughter. No boys upstairs, at all!"

"But how will I know if he's good at sex? Relationships can't last on conversation alone!"

"Bella, you're killing me! I'm the only father you have!"

We all snicker, but it's Emmett who guffaws, leaning in to whisper in Rose's ear. Whatever he says has her pulling back with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips, looking as if she's asking, "really?"

Catching on to this, Emmett nods with a smirk, looking all too delighted in the news he had to share.

"What did you say? Share your secrets," I start, walking forward but stop as Mom's fretful voice carries in from the kitchen.

"What are we going to do, Charlie?"

Changing my direction, I spin around and find my mother sitting at the table with her head buried in her hands and Dad standing behind her, giving me the stink eye.

I merely grin and lean against the wall. "What's going on?"

Mom slowly looks up, swallowing thickly. The serious and foreboding look on her face has my stomach twisting in knots and my palms getting sweaty. "I got some news today … from your Gran Marie."

Dad winces, bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead. "Renee, again, I'm sorry—"

She ignores him, continuing. "She's coming early for the holiday. A whole week early."

My eyes bulge, and my mouth drops open. I love Gran, and for us kids, she's great to be around. For my parents, however, not so much.

With Thanksgiving rapidly approaching, she'll want to take over the cooking and cleaning, not to mention she'll dictate what my father can and cannot eat.

Plus, I know for a fact she'll make a point to let my Grandmother Beth know she's here, because "she's the favorite grandmother in our family." That, in turn, will bring her here, where the two will proceed to bicker over every little thing.

Oh, boy. Here come the holidays.

Idly, I wonder if I'm too old to run away. It's not the most mature thought, but with all three of my grandparents in one small, cramped space for an extended period, at least I won't be the only immature one here.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Until next time! Stay safe!**


	28. Chapter 27

**Hello, everyone! I hope you're staying safe!  
**

**Big thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! And TONS of thanks to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for all of their help. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight.**

* * *

Mom scurries through the kitchen, her movements quick and erratic. Her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth as she bites it, wincing moments later. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, several strands pulled out and framing her face.

It would look beautiful, except for it being extremely frizzy from her pulling on it too many times.

Every so often, she'll make a sound of distress, a low keening moan emitting from her throat as she stares into the pantry with a look of panic on her face.

While Mom continues her cycle of despair over Gran's upcoming visit, I get distracted by the buzzing of my phone.

I fish it out of my pocket and hope it's Alice. I've been trying to get in touch with her for the past four days, but she hasn't answered her phone or returned my messages. It's clear she's shutting me out, and I'm pretty pissed about that. I get that she likes Jasper and is having a hard time with his asshole behavior, but I thought she could separate her crush for him from her friendship with me.

Disappointingly, it's not Alice that's texting me, but another Cullen.

_**The news is reporting that for the past three nights, someone has been running around town destroying public property and scaring the good citizens of Forks by standing in their backyard in all black. According to reports, they look pale and ghostly. When I heard this, I naturally thought of you. But then I thought, "no, she'd never be that stupid." Then I thought again. So, Bella, where have you been these past nights? ~Edward**_

I snort under my breath, typing out a response.

_**Pale and ghostly, huh? I think that's YOU, emo boy. Is this your way of admitting guilt? Do you need to talk to my father? I won't keep you out of prison if that's your angle. Do the crime and do the time. Enjoy jail, pretty boy. You won't be lonely for long, though. ~B**_

_**You think I'm pretty? ~E**_

I roll my eyes, my reply coming out swiftly through harsh taps on my phone screen.

_**Do you feel that? It's suddenly harder to breathe because your ego inflated again. You're not that special, Edward. ~B**_

_**Haha. For your information, I never admit guilt. I was only concerned for your well-being and your father's status in the community, that's all. ~E**_

"You're so full of it," I mumble underneath my chuckles.

"_**Only," huh? Well, that's very nice of you, but it wasn't me. I was accounted for, thank you very much, asshat. You said you'd never admit guilt, but you also said you'd never apologize, and you've done so quite frequently … so? Where were **_**you**_**? ~B**_

Minutes pass without a reply, and while I know he's probably thinking up a witty comeback or distracted, I take the opportunity to make my case.

_**No response, huh? Just like I thought. Guilty as ever. I'll keep my fingers crossed you don't get sent to prison for life. ~B**_

"Renee, stop," Dad tells her, interrupting my message. Dad is ignored as Mom continues to flit about the kitchen, cleaning, organizing, and pulling out ingredients for the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner to take place next week. Thankfully, she's kept to her promise, and everything is normal, traditional things you would expect to find in the meal, but she's still nervous as hell.

She's blaming on it the fact that all the grandparents are going to be here, and while I don't doubt it, I think there's another reason too.

Since her _changes, _she's been extremely nervous about everything; cooking and housework, mainly. I've caught her looking as if she's going to cry more than once when something breaks, or a meal doesn't turn out the way it should.

Dad, Rose, and Jasper immediately offer reassurances, while casting concerned glances toward me when they think I'm not looking.

I can't help but roll my eyes at that. While I'm seeing the inside of my head, I brush them aside and clean up whatever mess has been made or help Rose fix dinner. Their subsequent looks of shock and relief send me into chuckle fits that have me excusing myself to the bathroom so I can calm myself down.

Seeing Mom isn't going to calm relax, he steps closer, but makes no move to reach for her, instead opting to enter into a direct line of sight.

"Honey, stop. There's still plenty of time to get the ingredients for Thanksgiving."

Her head whips around toward him, her wide eyes showing disbelief and astonishment. "And go to the store with _her_? She'll say I'm not taking care of my family. No," she says firmly, waving her hands in the universal motion that means the conversation is finished. "I need to get this done today."

"She said that _once _… and that was when we were first married and had Bella. She doesn't think that way anymore."

Mom rolls her eyes, scoffing. "She may not say it, but I _know _she's thinking it. Just like you know my mother doesn't think we're a good match."

Dad grimaces at this, but reluctantly nods. "That's true about your mom, but my mother doesn't think that way anymore. She loves you, Renee. She does."

"Things are different now, Charlie," she murmurs, buried in the pantry once more. "I … I know I'm being crazy, but I want everything to be perfect, okay? Just let me do this."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Dad nods. "Fine, but you need to relax and calm down. Before you get all …" he pauses with a wince, casting a panicked look of his own toward his wife.

"Okay, sure."

Seeing he's lost her attention once more, his shoulders slump inward, and he heads into the living room, the squeak of recliner sounding out moments later.

Jasper emerges from his room, nearly stumbling into the wall with the familiar lost-in-thought expression he's had on his face for the past four days. It's not as bad as it once was, where he wouldn't talk to anyone and remained silent and shut off in his room.

I tried to talk to him by forcing him into corners and knocking persistently on his door at all hours, but he never budged. Two nights ago, I had thought he finally relented and had come to talk to me when I heard footsteps in the hall, but the knock on my door never came.

Rose tried to talk to him as well, and I thought with the two of us double-teaming him, he'd relent, but he never did.

To be honest, it kind of hurts, and I _know _it bothers Rose.

We're so used to him talking to us, but after two days of this, Rose simply said that we needed to let him figure things out on his own.

The thought was depressing, but I knew she was right; after all, we wouldn't be together all of the time in the future. We need to depend on ourselves from time to time.

"There's a wall there," I point out teasingly.

Jasper looks over to me, humor swimming in his eyes and the corners of his lips fighting a smile.

Pleasantly surprised, I blink rapidly before smiling back at his reply.

"I've noticed. Shit's always changing in this house," he jokes.

"Language," Mom barks, still distracted in her search for ingredients.

Jasper's eyebrows furrow together in concern as he watches Mom's hurried movements. Heavily, he frowns, and strangely enough, there's an odd combination of worry and awe in his eyes as he stares at her.

"What's up with her?" he murmurs at last.

"She's worried because Gran is coming in a few days."

Shock flits across his face, but there's excitement there too. "Really? I thought she wasn't coming until the day before Thanksgiving or something."

I shake my head and lightly laugh. "You've really been in your own head, huh?"

His cheeks redden, and he ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kind of. I've had a lot to think about."

"I imagine," I murmur, though he doesn't seem to hear me. "Yeah, she called about four days ago. Wanted to come and spend some extra time with us; I don't know." I trail off with a shrug, still confused about her intentions for this early visit.

"That'll be nice, though," he replies. "I love Gran."

"Yeah, she's great. Until Grandmother Beth comes."

We both grimace at the same time, and behind us, Rose makes a sound of displeasure.

"Ugh, really? She's coming?"

I nod in response even though she can't see. Her phone is in her hands, and she's staring intently at it, her fingers sliding over the screen as she texts someone. A small, bashful smile pulls at her lips and remains there long after she's placed the small device face down on the table, giving us her full attention.

Knowing she's paying attention now, I reply, ignoring Jasper's jerky movements and pointed glances toward his twin.

"Yep. She and Grandpa returned from wherever they were early and wanted to spend the holiday with us."

"France," is my mother's muffled reply, digging through the cabinet underneath the stove, the clattering of pots and pans loud in the small kitchen.

"Yeah," I say, waving a hand. "Anyway, that oughta be fun."

"Tons," is Rose's droll reply, followed by a heavy breath. Sitting heavily back, she shakes her head and brings one hand to massage her forehead.

On my other side, Jasper has now gone completely still, his unblinking stare on Rose. Seconds later, her head snaps up, and her wide eyes meet his.

My attention bounces between them as they silently communicate; one of Rose's eyebrows lift high on her head, clearly asking a question only they know. Slowly, Jasper nods in response with a shy smile, the apples of his cheeks taking on a deep pink hue.

He looks down, his curly blond hair falling in front of his eyes and breaking his connection to Rose. Immediately, she's displeased with this, and her eyes narrow into slits. This time, Jasper's head snaps up and keeps his attention on her.

I'm extremely intrigued to learn what secrets they're sharing; what is Jasper embarrassed about … what is Rose is happy about? There are so many questions, but I know I'll get no answers from them.

When they get secretive and carry on like this, they'll keep it between them. There have been a few occasions where they've let me in on the secret, and then three of us have our quiet conversations and make the decisions we think are best for the situation.

I don't think this will be one of those times, though. Deep in my gut, I know whatever they're 'discussing' so intently will remain between them. While I'm a little upset I'm being shut out; I have a pretty big hunch I know who they're talking about.

The Cullens.

It's one of the common factors between them now, especially considering Rose is now their biggest cheerleader—well, _Emmett's _cheerleader, to be more precise.

Now that she's dating Emmett, she's obviously on his team and trying to preach all the goodness she sees in him. I doubt she would say the same for his siblings, considering she has little interaction with them, but I could be wrong.

Whatever Emmett cares for will be what _she _cares for; that's just how she is.

Plus, she knows better than everyone else that you can't like someone without tolerating the people they love the most.

Ever so subtly, Rose nods to the left, and Jasper gives a barely-there dip of his head, conceding with a heavy sigh. Hoisting himself up, he shuffles toward his room, waiting for Rose.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk," Rose replies. "We'll be back in a bit."

"You guys gonna share or keep me in the dark?" I question, raising an eyebrow and folding my arms over my chest.

The pair exchange a long, pensive look, and Rose turns to offer a smile that's comforting and calming all at once.

"Soon," is all she says before she and Jasper disappear into the back.

The simple word makes me feel a lot better, but I still find myself huffing slightly as I lean my elbow on the table, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I understand their need for privacy; there are some things I only talk about with Rose and only with Jasper. However, with everything that's happened recently and everything that's going to happen soon, I thought we'd stick closer together now, more than ever.

"Don't be upset, baby girl," Mom says, brushing some hair away from my face. She places a gentle kiss on my forehead when I look up at her, and I softly sigh at the gentle motion of her fingers brushing through my hair. "They have a lot to talk about. They won't exclude you; that's not how the three of you are."

"Intuitive as ever," I murmur, catching her sharp look shortly after that. Pressing on, I continue. "I'm not upset, just … impatient."

And it's true.

I'm not really upset they're keeping secrets, I only wish they would just confide in me; if I do say so myself, I'm damn good at keeping secrets and a great confidant. I know they'll confide in me, I just wish it were _now. _

Sometimes, I'm an impatient bitch.

"Let it go," Mom tells me, her tone full of warning as she escapes to be buried in the pantry once more. "You'll know soon enough."

"I know, but I—"

She cuts me off, her tone final. "Enough." Then, a moment later, "I thought we had more black pepper?"

Knowing that remaining here is useless, I head up to my room, stopping halfway up the stairs as a heavy, impatient knock sounds from the door. My stomach becomes heavy, and I swallow past the lump in my throat as I turn, my unblinking eyes trained on the door.

Another knock pounds on the wood and rattles the glass on the small window surrounding the door, but it's muffled, almost as if it's underwater. The air in the house becomes heavy and almost unbreathable, as tension descends like a tidal wave.

I don't know what is making me feel like this, but if it's what I think it is, it's not good.

My phone buzzes noisily in my pocket, but I don't have the strength to answer it.

My parents sluggishly walk into the entryway, their eyes grim as they stare at each other.

Like Rose and Jasper, they seemingly carry on a silent conversation, with Dad giving my mother a questioning glance and her responding in a grim nod.

He sighs heavily, his head falling forward but makes no move to answer the door.

When another impatient knock shakes the wood, I carry my lead feet toward the door, closing my eyes as I swing it open.

"Isabella, good heavens! Is that how you greet your grandparents? With your eyes closed as if we're some monster?"

Grandmother Beth's shrill and accented voice is the first thing I hear, and already, I feel the need to scream.

I don't know where she got the accent, considering she was born and raised in Forks, but whatever. I guess it makes her feel better about herself.

Slightly following her tirade is a loud, unladylike snort that only belongs to one person; Gran Marie.

"Well, she's not stupid, at least. Bella, you have holy water, right?" she asks, gripping me in a tight hug and loudly kissing my cheek.

She stares at me for a long moment, her eyes drifting over me from head to toe. Once her appraisal is done, she nods in satisfaction.

"You look beautiful, baby."

I give her a genuine smile, trying to ignore my Grandmother's snort.

"She looks ridiculous," Grandmother spits, reaching out to take a lock of my purple streaks between her fingertips. "Look at this. Disgraceful."

Gran knocks her hand away with a glower, coming to stand in front of me, protectively. "Don't touch my granddaughter, wench."

Grandmother's nostrils flare, and if looks could kill, Gran would be a pile of ash at our feet. "She's my granddaughter, too."

"I find that difficult to believe," she says, wagging a finger. "Evil can't reproduce."

Behind Grandmother, Grandpa stands silently with his lips pressed firmly together in an attempt to stop the laughter. His eyes dance between the two quarreling women, clearly enjoying the fight taking place, or rather, Grandmother being _put _in her place.

When he catches my eye, he shoots me a wink and mouths the words, "you look beautiful."

I smile genuinely in response and take a step back. "Why don't you all come in?"

Grandmother looks over Gran's shoulder, her lips pursing. "It's about time you remembered your manners and invited us inside." She straightens her clothes, smoothing her hands down her red blazer, casting a suspicious look up and down the street. "I'm sure the neighbors think we're beggars or something."

Gran fingers the lapel of her jacket, scrunching her nose in disgust. "With that knock off you're wearing? Absolutely."

"How dare you, Marie! This is expensive, and it costs more than you'll ever see in your lifetime!"

"Sure it is," she replies with a snort. "First of all, you have no idea how much money I have, and secondly, stop wasting your cash on shit that makes you lumpier than you already are; do something decent and buy some class. Or give to charity; do something good … or will you burst into flames? Now _that _would be a sight!"

"Okay," I interrupt with a wave of my hand. I can tell both of my grandmothers are about to come to blows, and while the sight would be hilarious, I don't want it to happen in the front yard. That's what backyards are made for. "Let's go inside."

Grandmother frowns, shaking her head in disappointment. "Isabella, honestly. You have no manners. This is all your father's fault. That and _hers_," she sneers, flicking a hand toward Gran. "They're both uncouth heathens. Your mother should have married that nice boy _I _wanted her to marry, but she's been corrupted and has been since she let herself get knocked up by that sorry excuse of a man. Now, she's trap—"

"Mother, stop!" Mom barks from behind. Gently, she slides her hands on my shoulders and moves me aside, coming to stand in front of me. Dad gently nudges me, and when I turn to look, he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue in an effort to make me laugh.

I don't laugh, but I do smile, remembering the times when he did that exact thing when I was younger. It was his way of taking my mind off things, so I wouldn't be upset at the ignorance of other people.

This time, however, I'm not upset. I've grown used to the comments of my different style from others, especially Grandmother Beth. In all honesty, I could give two shits what she thinks; I'm happy with myself and the way I look, and that's all that matters.

Futilely, I wonder who takes Dad's mind off her hurtful words?

I'm sure Grandmother Beth's opinions of my father are hurtful, no matter how much he pretends otherwise. Plus, with the way she talks about their marriage and their children, I'm sure it cuts deeply.

Nudging him back, I lean toward him. "Gran has a point, you know. Do we have any crucifixes lying around? Or holy water?"

His lips twitch, but he says nothing, watching the scene unfold in front of us.

"Renee," Grandmother Beth loudly exclaims with a gasp, a hand coming to rest at the base of her throat.

Her loud shriek brings Rose and Jasper rushing in. They flank me on either side, their postures stiff as they immediately take in the tension radiating around us. Worriedly, they rapidly glance from the grandparents to my mom, taking slow, baby steps forward.

Because of our close proximity, their shoulders and arms push against mine, giving me no other option but to move with them. I'm not complaining, though; I _want _to see what's happening on our front porch. I just hope it won't end up on the news.

My grandparents stare at Mom in surprise, their eyes wide and mouths open.

Gran recovers first. Her shock transforms into pensive suspicion and unease, studying Mom from head to toe through a narrowed gaze. Her lips purse and she crosses her arms over her chest, and her right foot begins to tap on the concrete.

I don't know why she's looking at her like this; sure, Mom is different, but underneath all of that trivial crap, she's still the same person she's always been … just a little bit _more_.

So why is Gran acting like this?

I know she's always been a little critical of my mother, but this is too extreme, even for her. Despite her past behavior, I know she loves her. I know this because I can see the way her lips quirk when she watches my parents playfully bicker; I hear the way she sighs happily when they snuggle up in his recliner after dinner and whisper like kids.

I know she loves my mother because I see the way she looks at her when no one else is looking; she gives Mom the same look of love she gives my father.

I also know she loves her because I came out and asked her when I fourteen.

"I love to keep people on their toes, Bella," Gran had told me. "I've always been the touchy-feely type. You see how I am with your father? That's because I love him. I nag him because he's my boy; I nag because I love him, just like I love your mother. She's not my daughter-in-law, she's much more than that, and I thank the heavens everyday Charlie knocked her up … I would have preferred it if they waited until they were older to become parents, but eh. What can you do? Kids are stupid sometimes, but out of stupid mistakes, comes wonderful things … like you. Without your mother, I wouldn't have the best granddaughter, so I can't hate her."

That's why, with everything within me, I can't understand why she would stare at her with such doubt and apprehension.

Can't she see we're all here, happy and healthy?

The silence is broken by Grandmother, who lifts her hands toward Mom's face, but falters, rapidly bringing them back to her sides.

"What have you done to yourself? You … you look so different! What happened? Did you do this for him? To keep him around? Honey, I told you, don't change yourself for _him_. He's not worth the effort."

Behind her, Gran still hasn't let up with her gawking, something my parents exchange a quick look about, but otherwise remain silent on.

Now, is definitely not the time.

Mom plasters a smile on her face, waving them inside. "It's nothing, Mother. Come inside; it's going to rain."

"It always rains here; it's Forks! And I'm not going anywhere until you answer me! What happened?" Her blue eyes, so much like my mother's, narrow and turn on my father. "What did you do to my baby? She's … not right!"

This time, it's Grandpa that speaks up, clearly frustrated with his wife's foul attitude. "Beth, there's nothing wrong with her! She's fine, beautiful even. She looks radiantly happy."

Mom smiles at Grandpa's words, but Grandmother is having none of it. "What is there to be happy about? _Here_ of all places? No, he's done something to her … convinced her to get plastic surgery or something! She was fine with how she was before!"

The last statement is directed at my father, who turns an odd shade of puce as the silence drags on.

Personally, I don't care about keeping the peace. I'm not about to let this moment pass without saying something. No one insults my parents and gets away with it, no matter who they are.

I ready myself to unleash a tirade of epic proportions at my Grandmother, ready to tell her exactly where she can stick her pretentious attitude. Before I can utter a word, Mom takes a deep breath and briefly closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, they're darker and swimming with barely contained rage. Dad must notice this, too, as he steps to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and whispering in her ear.

Gran pales and watches them with a close eye and looking ready to jump between at any moment. I roll my eyes, wondering when she'll stop being so over-dramatic.

Beside me, Rose and Jasper tense and freeze, watching my parents studiously. I raise an inquiring eyebrow at them both, and in response, they flash me tight, uneasy smiles.

Upon Dad's touch, Mom relaxes immediately, leaning into his side and smiling at us kids over her shoulder. After a moment, she turns to address the grandparents. "Let's just go inside before it rains, okay? It's the start of the holidays; let's not bicker."

Grandmother shakes her head obstinately. "I'm not arguing … I'm merely pointing out your differences. Like _that,_" she says with a sneer, nodding toward my parents. "What happened just now? You used to have such fight in you, daughter."

"Trust me," Mom warns. "You don't want to see my fight."

"Renee," Dad softly warns, lightly tugging at her shoulder.

Grandmother huffs, nodding once. "Yes, just like _that. _ Now, you just do as _he _says? You're his puppet; everything I _didn't _want you and your sister to be. What has he done to you?"

"The only thing that being done to me is you!" Mom bellows, flinging a finger in Grandmother's face.

She shrinks back slightly, and upon realizing what she's doing, Grandmother squares her shoulders and meets Mom's irate look with one of her own.

"Renee, you _cannot_—"

"Oh, I will," she counters with a dark laugh, stepping away from Dad. He starts for her, but she holds up a hand, firmly shaking her head. "Stay away from me right now, Charlie … and you kids stay in the house."

Rose and Jasper each tug on my shoulders while Dad pushes me back and stands in front of us.

Even though we're further away from the action, the three of us still stand on the tips of our toes, attempting to see over Dad's shoulders.

Mom leans down into Grandmother's face, her nose an inch away from her mother's. "You wanted to see some fight? Well, here it is. I'm happy here, Mother; I never wanted to leave Forks; I love Charlie and my kids … they're everything to me. _Everything. _This kind of life, this town, may not have been enough for you, but it is for me, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. And don't you _dare _talk about _my _sister. You didn't know her as well as I did."

"She was _my _daughter; I knew her well enough." She pauses, shaking her head and casting her gaze upward. "I don't understand what's happening here. When you were younger, all you could talk about was getting away from here. Lillian, too; you both wanted a life outside of this crappy small town. You wanted adventure and surprise. It all changed when you met _him._"

"You're right; Lillian and I _did _want to leave, but that was before I met the love of my life and realized everything I wanted was here."

Grandmother scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You were a baby," she hisses. "You had silly thoughts and dreams that were unrealistic. You were a naïve girl … something that obviously hasn't changed."

Mom stands back, folding her arms across her chest, her hip cocked out to the side. "We're still together, aren't we? We're not together due to obligation or because we're too comfortable to be with anyone else. We're together because we love each other," she explains, her voice growing softer. Without looking, Mom reaches back for Dad's hand, and wordlessly, he slides his hand into hers, squeezing tightly. "He still makes me smile and giggle like I'm sixteen. I still find myself thinking about him, even when he's in the next room … my heart still warms when he leaves me notes or brings me a gift, _just because. _And our sex life is still phenomenal."

All at once, Rose, Jasper, and I groan, but underneath the disgust, we're smiling at the proclamations being thrown out.

"I feel the same way, Renee," Dad tells her, kissing her cheek.

She smiles at him in response, briefly closing her eyes as she rests her forehead against his.

"Now, I'm going to forget about everything you've said for the sake of family and the holidays, but I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"I'm not a child."

"Otherwise," Mom interrupts, her voice rising over Grandmother's, "You're not welcome in my house."

Grandmother's mouth falls open as she sputters, looking at Mom as if she's grown a second head. No one else says a word, but satisfaction is obvious on everyone's faces, my grandfather's included.

It's only Gran who says something, though. Loudly, she laughs and claps her hands. There's still a hint of apprehension on her face, but despite that, she looks extremely proud. "Good for you, Renee. Tell that old hag off."

Briefly, Mom's head ducks in embarrassment, but she gets over it quickly, sweeping a hand behind her. "Let's go in now. We've given the neighbors enough of a show."

Sure enough, I spot the neighbors across the street and next door peeking from behind their curtains, their faces practically pressed against the glass.

Plastering on a smile, I wave at each of them, staggering forward as Rose knocks her shoulder into mine.

Muttering a curse, I glare at her over my shoulder. "What?" I hiss.

"Not appropriate," she scolds in a whisper, but there's no force behind it. The corners of her lips constantly lift as she fights a smile.

My anger depletes just as quickly as it started, and I turn back to watch the continued soap opera play out on our front porch.

Hesitantly, Gran steps forward, keeping her gaze on Mom, who meets her stare unblinkingly. When she's close enough, Mom smiles and slowly moves a hand toward her, grasping her forearm lightly, ignoring her light flinch.

Surprise flits across Gran's face, and she continues forward as if she's in a daze. It's only when Rose softly calls out to her that she breaks from her trance. Shaking her head, she lightly laughs, looking at Mom over her shoulder.

Her attention shifts back to us, and she grins excitedly, grasping my hands and bringing them up in the air as she dances. We laugh with her, not really caring that Grandmother might be upset.

She deserves it.

Grandmother glowers at us, her irate expression breezing over all of us before settling on Mom. "I'm going to let you calm down, Renee Charlotte. When you remember I'm your mother, and I deserve respect … and when you can speak to me in a respectful manner, then I'll come back. Good day."

Promptly, she spins around and marches out into the street, her heels rapidly clicking against the concrete and bouncing off the trees. Grandpa doesn't immediately follow her, instead opting to stick around. After a moment, he reaches for Mom's hand, giving her a puzzled expression, but managing a smile.

"Proud of you, Kiddo," he whispers.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Andrew! Come on!" Grandmother screams from the passenger side of the car.

Rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh, he shakes his head and trails after her, looking as if he'd rather stay here than go anywhere with her.

From my pocket, my phone buzzes once more, and I'm curious to see what Edward has written now, but it's not the right time.

"Bye, Beth!" Gran calls, waving a hand. "See you soon, sweetie!"

"Mom!" Dad groans, his head falling back on his shoulders. "Do you have to antagonize her?"

Gran nods once. "I do. It's my job, and I'm fabulous at it."

"Can you try to cut it out for the holidays? Please? It'll make things much easier for us … and Renee."

At the mention of her name, Gran turns toward my mother, her expression once more turning calculating. "Would it really? Why?"

"The holidays are stressful enough for us with all the bickering and nitpicking," he pointedly says. "Add in the fact that you're here while Renee wants to cook _her own dinner_, that's plenty of stress for her."

"Well," Gran begins, straightening her clothes and squaring her shoulders. "I didn't realize my presence was such a bother."

Dad levels her with a hard look. "Cut the guilt trip; it won't work. And that's not what I meant, and you know it. Besides, you know how you are; you know you're difficult and pushy."

"Bitchy, you mean?"

He snorts in response. "You said it, not me."

I laugh, quickly muffling it against the back of my hand as Gran looks over. She doesn't look upset, but I can see she's trying very hard to _appear _that way.

"Look, Mom," Dad continues, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We've had a hard year, and with the last few months being the most difficult, let alone the past few weeks."

Concern and panic overtake her features. "What happened? What didn't you tell me? I _knew _I shouldn't have moved to Florida! I miss too much—"

"Marie, not now, please," Mom interjects, shooting a pointed look toward us. "Later, okay?"

Gran stares at her for a long moment before nodding. "Fine, later. And I'll try my hardest to be on my best behavior, but it won't be easy. Beth is a major pain in the ass! I don't know how you turned out normal, Renee."

Mom's mouth falls open, words failing her before a bark of laughter escapes. "I don't know how _normal _I am, but I appreciate the compliment."

"You know what I mean. You're not stuffy and bitchy."

Dad's chin drops down to his chest. "Mom, come on."

"What? I'm not going to sugar-coat things. I'm not made that way, Charlie. Besides, she knows her mother."

Mom nods at Gran's words, her lips twitching as she fights a smile. "Please, come in. I'm sure you want to rest before you go to the B&B."

"Why would I go there?" she questions, looking astonished. "I'm not staying there. I'm staying here, where I'm needed. Jasper, be a darling, and bring my things inside."

Jasper nods—albeit a little reluctantly—bringing her bags inside, setting them in the living room with a grimace as he takes in the silent shock on my parent's faces. She pats him once on the cheek and moves toward Rose and me, giving us tight hugs and brandishing kisses to our cheeks.

Once inside, Gran looks around the house with a close eye. But it's not as critical or inspecting as it's been in the past. In fact, it simply looks as if she's looking for more changes, and she's satisfied that everything is the same.

My parents recover from their shock and begin speaking over another, their voices jumbled and broken. I take the moment to check my phone, wanting to stop the incessant buzzing of my phone.

When I open Edward's messages, I can't help but smirk at his responses.

_**You're such a pain, you know that, right? Not everyone is glued to their phone. And no, I'm not guilty. I think you protest too much. ~E**_

_**See? Not responding is, in your definition, an admission of guilt. Don't worry, I won't forget you. You'll look … okay-ish in orange. ~E**_

Quickly, I respond.

_**Orange isn't my color, trust me. There's a reason it's not in my hair. Right now, I'm thinking more of a white color with long sleeves that wrap around my torso. It'll be like I'm constantly hugging myself. ~B**_

Seconds later, my phone buzzes, but I ignore it, watching the scene before me unfold with trepidation.

"Marie—"

"Mom, you don't—"

"One at a time," Gran scolds, planting a hand on her hip.

"Mom," Dad starts, squeezing Mom's hand tightly within his own. "There's not a lot of room here, you know? You won't be comfortable."

"Nonsense. I won't kick the children out of their rooms if that's what you're worried about. I can sleep on the couch. It still pulls out, right?" she inquires, kicking it.

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then it's settled!" She beams, raising her hands in the air as if she's just completed a victory marathon. "I'll sleep right here in the living room, in the center of the action."

The parents exchange a look, each of them looking paler than normal. "Are you sure you won't be more comfortable in Jasper's room? Or with one of the girls?" Mom suggests. "It's really no trouble."

Gran scrunches her nose. "No. That's their space, and I won't invade it. They need a safe haven to escape to, and I won't take that away from them. With me here in the living room, I can be as close as I need to, just in case I'm needed. Obviously, you've both been through a lot; more than what I've been told," she pointedly says, fixing my parents with what I call the 'Mom' stare.

It's the look that can get you to feel guilty and confess everything you've ever done, even if you haven't done it. Mom has only used it a handful of times, but Rose is already a master at it.

Each time it's been used on me, I felt the need the squirm and apologize, even when _the look _isn't being directed at me—like right now, for instance.

To my surprise, both Mom and Dad bow their heads like misbehaving children, boring holes into the floor near the feet.

"Mom, we—"

"Marie, it's just—"

"It's fine," Gran tells them with more gentleness than what I was expecting. "I understand, but we'll be talking later."

My parents mumble something under their breath, still staring at the floor.

The sight of this is too hysterical, and it's too much for us to handle. Rose, Jasper, and I chuckle under our breath but stop short as Gran levels us with a raised eyebrow.

"Something funny, kids?"

We quickly shut up and shake our heads. I press my lips tightly together in an effort to contain any lingering giggles wanting to escape.

Gran smirks, waving us away with a flick of her wrist. "Go on and look through that bag there," she tells us, pointing at the small black and neon green checkered carry-on near her feet. "There's something in there for each of you."

Needing no other invitation, we dive for it like small children, eagerly taking out our presents while Gran wanders into the kitchen, looking at the ingredients cluttering the counters.

"You're serious about cooking Thanksgiving dinner, huh? This should be interesting."

"Mom," Dad warns.

"I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying, if it's too stressful, I can help."

"Renee has it covered. You're _not _cooking."

There's no response, but knowing Gran, I'm sure she's made a face. Since neither one of my parents say anything more, I can bet she did it behind their back, or they're just attempting to keep the peace.

Rose and Jasper fawn over their gifts while I examine my new charcoal pencils, rushing eagerly up to my room to test them out. They're not a brand I've heard of before, but in my experience, I've found that sometimes, that makes them the best kind.

Two hours pass, and I'm still entranced in my drawings, not even conscious of what I'm sketching at the moment. All I can marvel over is how smooth the pencils glide over the paper and the rich quality it leaves behind.

The spell isn't broken until a familiar loud shout reverberates throughout the house.

"What do you mean she's staying here?!" Grandmother shrieks.

Heavily, I sigh and hang my head, whining a little under my breath. Now that Grandmother has found out Gran is staying here, she'll be over from sunrise to sundown, wanting to make sure Gran doesn't "poison" us with her wild ways.

Plus, she _has _to make sure she's getting in as much time with us as Gran, not because she loves us and wants to spend time with her family … no, she needs to make sure someone doesn't upstage her because _that _is what's important.

On my desk, I spot my cell phone, the blue light blinking rapidly. Remembering my texting exchange with Edward, I sweep up the device and unlock it.

_**What? What are you talking about? ~E**_

His next message was sent an hour later.

_**Everything okay? ~E**_

Needing someone to vent to, I reply.

_**Yeah, I guess. By the end of the holidays, I'll need to be committed, though. Both bickering Grandmothers came, and one of them just found out the other was staying here. ~B**_

Surprisingly, his reply is instant.

_**Oh, shit. If you were old enough, I'd say you could drink, but that won't work. Oh well, Good luck, and consider this karma for you. ;) ~E**_

_**Gee, thanks, asshat. ~B**_

"Where are my grandchildren? This is what happens when you don't discipline them, Renee! They're rude and disrespectful."

Knowing my presence is being summoned, though why I don't know, I head downstairs, checking my phone once more, chuckling at Edward's reply.

_**No problem, anytime. ~E**_

Seconds later, my phone buzzes again.

_**If you need an escape, just holler. ~E **_

I tap the phone against my chin as I think over his offer. He may regret this suggestion later, but there's no way he can take it back. I have it in writing … and if things get any worse than what happened today, I'll _definitely _be taking him up on it.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I know it's a slow burn for these two, but it'll be worth it!**

**So, who's read Midnight Sun? What did you think? :)**

**See you soon!**


	29. Chapter 28

**I hope everyone is doing okay and staying safe ... and also, Happy September! **

**An enormous bucket of "thank you's" go to everyone who reads and reviews. You're all amazing!**

**Even MORE thank you's go out to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for all of their help. Seriously, they're amazing. Thank you! (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

After this holiday, my classmates and the good citizens of Forks won't have to wonder about my sanity. Furthermore, I'll no longer need to lie about it, either, because I know by the time all of my grandparents leave, my new home will be crazy-ville.

Population: five.

If I were an ordinary dramatic teenager, I'd say it was only happening to me, but it's not. The rest of my family is just as affected as I am, so at least I'll be in good company.

The past few days leading up to Thanksgiving have been a nightmare.

Grandmother has been bickering about anything and everything. Mom's recent behavior and appearance has been a huge topic, followed closely by the way we kids behave. At the end of each visit, Grandmother is kicked out, and Mom disappears for a few hours to "walk off some steam" in the woods behind the house. While she's gone, Dad hovers anxiously near the back door until she returns, completely calm and relaxed.

Gran hasn't been that much better with her studious stares and bitching with Grandmother. She fights her on everything she says, which is extremely funny, but at the same time, annoying. I agree Grandmother needs to be taken down a peg or two, but the constant arguing is giving me a headache.

Today, I know it won't be any different.

It's Thanksgiving, and I can hear the pots and pans banging from the kitchen as Mom starts to prep for the meal.

Tension is already thick in the house, and I bang my head against my pillow, wishing it were harder. Maybe then I would be able to knock myself out until Thanksgiving is over.

Through my closed door, I hear Rose's door slowly squeak, followed by her muffled curse as she attempts to be quiet.

My eyebrows raise into my hairline as I note the time, seeing it's way too early to be going anywhere. Not caring about being as quiet or subtle as Rose, I throw open my door and hiss out her name. She's frozen at the top of the stairs, frozen like a prowler that had been caught; arms slightly extended, one foot hovering midair and eyes wide and fearful.

I chuckle lowly, leaning against the doorframe. At my laughter, she huffs and relaxes.

"Yes, yes, it's very funny. What are you doing up?" she grumbles, shuffling over to me.

"Where are you sneaking off to? I thought you had copious amounts of homework and studying to do?"

She nods. "I do, but I_ have _to get out," she replies, her voice taking on a slightly desperate edge. Even her eyes go momentarily wild as she wraps a strand of blonde hair around her finger and pulls. "I can't stay in this house a moment longer. I think I'll flip … if I haven't already."

"I understand the feeling," I murmur before nudging her, making her hair twirling cease. "You didn't answer me, by the way. Where are you going? It's Thanksgiving. Nothing is open."

"To see Vera," is her quirk reply.

I raise an eyebrow, highly suspicious of this; she's already been to see Vera and told Mom she's suffering extreme morning sickness that keeps her indisposed for long periods of the day. In fact, when she went to see her yesterday, she told us she barely got to see her, since she was so ill.

Most of her day with Vera was spent in her room, listening to her vomit from the adjacent bathroom.

I don't doubt that Rose wouldn't go to help her in a heartbeat, considering the type of person Rose is. What I do doubt, however, is Rose interfering with Vera's mother and her fiancée, who's been at her side every minute of the day.

Knowing Rose, she wouldn't crowd them or get in their way; she'd be there as Vera's friend and nothing more.

So, where _is _she going this early in the morning?

"Really? Is she feeling better?"

Rose averts her eyes, her focus intent on a loose thread from the hem of her sweater.

"Yeah, she's okay," she responds, furiously plucking at the string.

I hum under my breath, not believing her for her second. She's a terrible liar when she wants to be, and this time, I definitely know she's lying.

After a few moments, she finally breaks. "Okay, I'm not going to see Vera. I'm going to see Emmett. He's taking me to get breakfast because he _has _tried to cook for me, but that didn't turn out so well," she rambles. "He blew up the microwave and set the oven on fire ... I still haven't figured out _how _he did that."

"Okay, breathe," I interject, raising my hands. "It's nice to hear he tried to cook for you, but I don't know why you're rambling."

She huffs, throwing up her arms. "I don't know either! See? I'm nuts! And FYI, there _are_ places open. Mostly for the people that don't have family or are working. I checked before suggesting this to Em. Aunt Renee knows I'm leaving, but I want to leave before Gran finds out."

Mimicking her motions from a second ago, I throw my hands up in the air and shake my head while simultaneously rolling my eyes. "Why didn't you just say that? Jeez, it's not like I don't know you're dating."

Uncharacteristically, her cheeks take on a pink hue, and she ducks her head, biting the corner of her lip. "I know, I know. It's just … new. He's so different from—"

I stop her, not wanting to hear his name. The memories of him don't deserve to be in the present, nor does he deserve acknowledgment.

"I get it … and that's good. I'm happy for you." I pause, not knowing how to broach my next question. I don't want to give Royce and what he put us through another thought, but I have to know something. I just wish I knew how to present it.

Rose, being the intuitive person she is, reaches forward and grabs my hand. "Everything is different this time, Bella. Emmett … he listens to me. He values my opinion. He's letting me do things at my pace, in my own time. He's … I don't know. When I'm with him, I don't feel on edge and nervous like I did with Royce," she hesitates, a puzzled expression crossing her features. "I don't know; I feel relaxed and peaceful. Like, it's right for me, like _he's _right for me."

I blink in surprise, wondering how she can feel so strongly for him when she hasn't known him that long and dated him for even less. Can two people really form a connection that quickly?

Recalling my parent's tales of their relationship, I would say yes, but right now, it seems so different. In my eyes, they've always been adults. It's not logical, because I know they've been my age once, but I suppose since I had never witnessed it, it's difficult to imagine.

For Rose, a kid like me, to say something so intense and reminiscent of my parent's stories, it simply seems completely illogical.

What I can't ignore, however, is how much happier Rose has been since she and Emmett started dating. She's right about one thing; her relationship with him is completely different from how she was with Royce.

Instead of being frazzled and eager to keep him happy, she's been relaxed and happy _herself_, and I've caught her more than once with a small smile on her face.

An incredulous laugh leaves her as her head falls backward, her eyes trained on the ceiling. "Shit, listen to me. I sound like a nut. I've only known him for a short time," she mumbles, scrubbing a hand over her face. "It's how I feel, though. Maybe it's infatuation or hormones or something. I don't know."

Pushing my thoughts aside, I squeeze her hand. "Who knows? Maybe you'll end up like Mom and Dad."

A contented smile forms on her lips, and her reply is soft and dreamy-like. "Yeah, maybe."

"Why didn't you say something, though? I wouldn't have said anything rude or teasing. Much."

Her lips quirk in a half-grin. "I know. I just didn't want the grandparents to know. This visit has been less than pleasant. With Grandmother on her high horse and Gran kicking up trouble … not to mention her hovering, I'm surprised any of us can do or say anything without one of them behind us making comments or asking pointless questions."

I nod in agreement. While Grandmother's behavior is normal for her, Gran's is the exact opposite. All day yesterday, she kept a close eye on all of us, asking us if we were happy and if we felt safe. I think her inquires went far beyond hearing about the recent crime spree in Forks, but I haven't called her out on it.

Honestly, I find her line of questioning rather inane. Of course, it's probably hard to tell since we've all been morose and moody since they arrived.

"Hopefully, Gran will back off loosen up soon then, she'll back off."

Rose hums under her breath, eying me speculatively. Her eyes narrow, and lips purse the longer she stares, her head tilting from left to right ever so slightly.

"Why do you think she's acting this way?" she finally asks.

I shrug a shoulder, meeting her gaze. "Don't know; she's shocked over Mom's changes. Maybe she's worried things here at home aren't as happy as we're making it seem."

Her eyes narrow further, and her mouth opens to say something more, but she stops short. "Never mind," she mumbles. "It's not possible."

"Anything and everything is possible," I tell her seriously, raising an eyebrow.

Her mouth falls open in a gasp, but before she can say anything, I continue. "It's good to know you're not good at everything. You _suck _at sneaking around," I tease. "I'm not going to count on you to get us out of high-pressure situations. In fact, if we have to sneak out of somewhere, let me go first."

The shock she was wearing fades as she shakes her head, seemingly pushing whatever she was thinking from her thoughts. "Why? So you can escape and leave me behind?"

"Me? I would never! But yes."

She snorts a laugh. "Oh, you're hysterical."

"I try."

"Yeah, go get a day job because comedy isn't your strong suit."

"I'll take that under advisement."

"You're completely warped." Before I can respond, she continues. "What are you doing up anyway? Normally you sleep like the dead."

The overwhelming urge to fidget comes over me as she continues to stare, her eyes tracing over the features of my face. Gently, she raises one hand, the tip of her index finger moving over the skin underneath my eyes.

I avert them, so I don't see her knowing expression, but it's no use. I can feel her worry penetrating every pore.

"You're not sleeping," she outright says, her words a statement, not a question.

I don't want this to be made into some big thing, so I deflect. "Of course, I'm sleeping. If I weren't, then I'd be running around hallucinating and talking in riddles. Before long, I'd be in the hospital and—"

"Bella," she snaps, pressing her lips tightly together. "I know you're not sleeping. Don't lie to me."

"I'm sleeping," I insist.

While it's not the truth, it's not a complete lie either. I _am _sleeping … it's just not a full eight hours … or even six.

Multiple times I'm woken by my nightmares over what happened on Halloween night. It pisses me off because now my favorite holiday is slightly tarnished by mine and Jess's attack.

It doesn't matter how many times I tell myself it's all over or that Jess is okay, I still see Laurent's menacing grin as he lunges for us.

I've taken to humming random songs, hoping my subconscious will find the one I had heard before in my dreams, but I haven't had any luck so far. Now, I'm just hoping that these nightmares will weed themselves out with time … and the arrival of the grandparents.

"You're not sleeping _well_," she amends. "And probably not for very long. What's going on?"

Knowing lying is useless, I opt for another way around the truth. "Nothing. I'm just working through some stuff. I'll be fine; I'm probably doing it to myself because I heard a song, and now I can't find it."

Suspicion floods her face. "What song?"

I hum the parts I remember and watch as her recognition lights her features. "Do you know it?" I ask, excited.

My hope falls as she shakes her head. "No, not the title, but I've heard it before. I'll do some searching and let you know."

"Thanks."

"You need to try and sleep," she tells me, motioning to my room with a jerk of her chin. "Take one of Aunt Renee's all-natural sleeping pills if you have to. But _you need to sleep_. You can't continue on like this.

I nod, even though the idea of taking something isn't the way I want to go. Then again, maybe, it's just what I need; I'll sleep deeply and most likely won't dream. It's a win-win for me.

"Fine, I'll do it."

"Good. I'll tell Aunt Renee, and she'll let you rest."

I snort at this. I know my parents will let me sleep; however, it's the grandparents that will be the ones who have the issue.

8*8*8*8*8*8

"Unbelievable," I hear muttered through my cocoon of blankets, followed by a light shaking of my mattress. "She's still sleeping, and it's past noon, and the meal my daughter slaved over is almost ready. Kids these days, I swear."

"Leave her alone, you crotchety old woman," another snaps. "She needs her rest, and I didn't hear you offer to help Renee in the kitchen."

"I don't cook," Grandmother says with a sniff.

"Oh, it figures! You probably have someone to do that for you, right? Do you have someone to wipe your ass too? Hey, the next time they help you with _that, _ask them to remove the stick that's lodged up there."

"You're so uncivilized and uncouth!" There's a moment of silence, and then there's a scoff of indignation. "I rest my case. I should have _never _let my daughter marry your son. You've all corrupted her and my grandbabies; sleeping late, their wild hair colors and clothes … not to mention sneaking out before dawn! I'm appalled."

"Keep going, Beth. You'll have a stroke at this rate, and I will happily dance on your grave."

"Ugh! Get away from me, harpy!"

It takes me a moment to push past the foggy haze of sleep, and once I do, I'm able to recognize the voices instantly.

My grandmothers.

I groan softly into my pillow, but luckily they don't hear me as they continue to bicker.

"Mother! Marie!" Mom hisses, making me jump slightly. Her footsteps are so light it's hard to tell when she's coming. "I told you not to disturb Bella. She needs to sleep."

"I find her behavior completely disrespectful, Renee … and _yours _as well for that matter. How can you condone this? Yes, the girl needs sleep, but that's what night is for. She's sleeping the day away and completely wasting my time. I came all this way to see my family—"

"Mother, we can continue this conversation downstairs. Now."

There's a moment of intense silence, and I imagine Grandmother and Mom are locked into a staring contest, battling with their stubborn wills.

Thankfully, Mom appears to win as Grandmother huffs, and her heavy irate stomping grows distant as she heads downstairs.

"Is she all right, Renee?" Gran questions, her voice gentle, but there's also a note of suspicion. "I'm sure things haven't been all that calm or relaxing here—"

"What are you implying, Marie?"

Gran is quick to answer. "Nothing! I'm just worried about you and my family. I know you're going through—"

"I appreciate your concern, but everything is fine, as we told you. Dr. Cullen wouldn't have released me if he wasn't sure I would be okay, and Charlie wouldn't have let me come within a mile of this house either; you know your son, he's just as stubborn and pigheaded as you."

Gran chuckles. "Well, he's definitely found his match."

"He has; now, please. Leave."

There's a moment of silence, and then the bed dips, and the covers are pulled away from my face. I blink against the sudden onslaught of brightness, and once my eyes adjust, I see my mother's gentle smile. "Hi, baby. Did you sleep well?"

I shrug and make a face, still feeling groggy. "I feel like I could sleep more."

The sound she makes is a sympathetic one. "I know," she murmurs, running her fingers through my hair, tenderly working through the knots that have developed while I've obviously tossed and turned like a maniac.

"I'm sorry," she continues. "I tried to hold them off as long as I could, telling them you needed to rest, but your Grandmother snuck up here while I was basting the turkey."

A throaty, sleepy chuckle bubbles up to my throat. "I can't believe they got past you."

Mom huffs, looking displeased. "I was distracted. I thought it was burning because your Gran said it might have been in there too long." She ends this statement by rolling her eyes. "It's not burnt, thank goodness, so that's a relief." She pauses, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "It's probably best you don't sleep longer, though. Your Grandmother will have a fit, and you won't sleep tonight."

I don't bother to mention that any sleep I get won't be restful anyway; even though I _had _slept this morning, I know it wasn't easy and dream free.

The knot in my stomach tells me so.

"Okay, let's get this hell-show over with," I say with a deep sigh, throwing back the covers.

Mom frowns heavily. "Bella," she scolds.

"What? Is that not an apt phrase for this situation?"

There's a moment of silence as she fights her smile, trying to remain stern and mature. Finally, she laughs, smothering the sound with the palm of her hand. "It is. Come," she invites, standing and holing out her hand. "You can taste-test some side dishes for me."

I allow her to help me up, stepping in front of her. The frown from earlier comes back as her gaze roams my face. Without a word, she pulls me into her arms, rocking us from side to side as she hugs me.

There's a slew of sarcastic things I can say at this moment, but I refrain. Instead, I close my eyes and lean into her comforting embrace. Right now, I feel five years old again, waking from a bad dream and feeling ten times better just because Mom is here with me.

"Everything okay?" Dad's entrance is quiet like Mom's, no doubt useful for when he's working on a case and following a suspect.

He's not always noiseless, though. Most of the time, you can hear his heavy footfalls and the protesting floorboards underneath his feet. It's been useful in the past when Rose, Jasper, and I were being sneaky, but now I'm wondering just how much he's heard.

Is he naturally silent, or does he sometimes let us slide when we want to keep secrets? If he does, let us slide, should I be grateful or scared?

On the one hand, I'm definitely grateful; the shit we've said and done would definitely warrant a punishment in my eyes. On the other, if Dad knows about the crap we've done, is he holding it for blackmail purposes? Does that make him a psychopath?

Turning, I raise an eyebrow at him, wishing I could see into his head on this matter.

Dad scratches at his temple, giving Mom an imploring look as he shrugs. "What?"

She mimics the motion, staring at me with her eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Why do you sometimes make noise when you walk, and at other times you don't?" I blurt out.

Dad is silent for a moment, his face impassive as he blinks rapidly, and his eyebrows rise into his hairline as he processes what I've said. Once it clicks, the corners of his lips curl into an evil-looking smile, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Worried about something, daughter?"

Mom looks between us; her head tilted to the side as she stares, trying to join the train of thought we're on. By the way she crosses her arms and huffs, I can tell she's not there yet.

"No," I reply, my tone sounding defensive even to my ears. I take a moment, collecting myself, and then continue. "I just don't want to have a heart attack with your stealthy feet, that's all."

"You're young," Dad counters. "And you're healthy. You have nothing to worry about … on that front, anyway."

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I shake my head. "You don't know for sure; healthy people have heart attacks too, and _I _might have one if you sneak up on me—"

"No one is having a heart attack," Mom interrupts sternly. "I don't know what you two are going on about, but enough of it. Let's go downstairs, and _you_," she says, pointing in my direction. "Need to eat."

My stomach grumbles in agreement, and I follow behind her, past my snickering father, who closes our small train.

"I know all of your secrets," he sing-songs in my ear.

I have no doubt he does, with his stealthy ninja-feet, but he forgets, I know his secrets too. I may not sneak around to find them out, but I've covered for him plenty of times in the past … and the present.

"I'm sure you do … and spill my secrets if you want, but I know yours, too," I tell him, smirking when I see him pale slightly.

"You're evil. I wonder if priests make house calls."

"It's genetic," I whisper, nudging his arm.

He laughs, pulling me into a hug and loudly kissing my forehead. "I love ya, kid."

"Love you too."

"Come on, slow-pokes!" Mom calls from downstairs, rolling her eyes when she sees us.

Downstairs, Grandmother sits stoically, one hand wrapped around the half-empty coffee mug. Upon seeing us, her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth.

"You coddle your children too much. That's why they act the way they do and _do _what they want," Grandmother rebukes. "Like her hair. Look at that; such a shame. Her natural color was so beautiful."

"There's nothing wrong with her hair, Mother. She's beautiful." Mom places a quick kiss on my temple, brushing my hair behind my ears.

Over her shoulder, I notice Gran frown in our direction, but the look passes too quickly for anyone to see.

"I made your favorite," Mom continues, waving over to the table.

My mouth waters at the sight of homemade macaroni and cheese with breadcrumb toppings. Alongside it is a bowl of green beans and fried onions, stuffing, and sweet potatoes with golden marshmallows on top.

"I taught your mom how to cook that," Gran tells me, nodding toward my plate of mac and cheese while running her fingers through my hair. "It was your dad's favorite meal, too."

The action looks soothing and comforting on the outside, but being on the receiving end on this, I know it's not. Her fingers probe along my temple and neck in gentle swooping motions.

I raise an eyebrow in question, swallowing down my bite of food. "What'cha looking for, Gran?"

Snatching her hand away, she gives me a tight, worried smile. "Nothing, dear."

"You're using some of kind of voodoo on my family, aren't you?" Grandmother barks, pointing a bony finger in Gran's direction. "You've probably been doing it for years, you witch!"

"Mom," Dad warns, his lips pressing down into a grimace and completely ignoring Grandmother. "We talked about this."

Gran steps back and nods once, her head falling forward. "I know. I'm sorry, I'm just worried—"

"What on earth are you people talking about?" Grandmother interrupts, looking at everyone with bewilderment. "You're all brainwashed! I knew I should have taken you and Lillian out of this hell-hole when you and Lillian were pregnant!"

"Mother, there's nothing wrong with us."

Grandmother wags a finger in her direction. "Oh, yes, there is. You're all acting strange; _you,_ especially, Renee. You're different and—"

"Can it, Beth!" Gran barks, the tension in the air rising to an uncomfortable level.

"Why you little—"

Not wanting things to escalate further, I cut in, hoping to diffuse the situation and change the subject. "Where's Grandpa?"

He's not anywhere I can see, and since he and Grandmother hadn't stayed here last night, I imagine he's still at the hotel, but I don't know why. Shouldn't he be here to spend time with us?

Grandmother throws her hands up in the air, gesturing wildly in my direction. "_This _is your influence," she seethes, glaring first at Gran and then Dad. "You're both so beneath my family. My daughter should have raised her standards and found her a better caliber of husband … one the family is worthy of—"

She's cut off by Gran's raucous laughter, while I sit and seethe, my jaw gently clicking in uneven bursts as I grind my teeth.

"_Worthy of your family,_" Gran mocks, sticking her nose in the air. "You're not from a fancy area, honey. Have you forgotten you were born in Forks? Generations of your family were born here, Beth. And you were all lower class too. You forget, I grew up with you; I remember you wearing holey clothes from thrift shops and your poor father working two jobs to support your family. _That _was a good man; what happened? Were you switched at birth? Adopted? I pray my Bella doesn't inherit your crazy, and I thank my lucky stars Rosalie and Jasper don't share your DNA."

"She's already doomed! She's half of _him_," Grandmother seethes, pointing in Dad's direction. "He's a deviant that took advantage of my daughter, and now he's ruining my granddaughter, just like he ruined Renee's life!"

"My father is a good man," I grind out, unable to keep silent any longer, slamming my hand on the table with each word uttered.

During Gran's speech, all she did was glare at Grandmother and Dad, shooting them contemptuous looks and raise her nose in the air like she's better than them.

Dad and Gran aren't saints and are sometimes pains—the latter being the biggest at the moment—but they're still good people, and I won't have anyone, regardless of who they are, talk bad about them.

"Dad works hard for our family and for this town. He protects us and nearly killed himself trying to find who was abducting and killing people around here! He may not come from the upper class, but do you see him talking against you while you run him into the ground? No!"

"Bella," Dad softly says, placing a hand on my arm. "It's okay. Sit down."

I shake off his hand and firmly shake my head, the fingers of my right hand curling into my palm, my fingernails cutting into the flesh. "No, I won't sit! Stop talking about my father in such a disgusting manner! Looking down your nose on people doesn't make you a better person; it makes you a bitch! And as for my mother, she's happy with her life! If you would come visit more than once a year and stay longer than an hour, you'd see that!"

Gran nods with approval, but I'm just getting started. "And Gran, I love you, but Mom is fine. We're all happy and healthy, so stop studying her so closely! She's been through a lot and doesn't need your constant observing! Butt the hell out!"

Ashamed, she looks away, busing herself with wiping down the stove.

"You're a heathen," Grandmother hisses. "_This _is what happens when you have no discipline! If your parents won't do it, I will!"

She rises, flattening her hand, and cocking her arm back. I ready myself, bracing for her impending strike, but Dad shoots up from his chair, sending it flying back into the hall. Quicker than I've ever seen him move, he grabs her arms and shoots her a deadly look.

"You touch my kid, and you'll regret it, Beth. I mean it."

Even as he lets her arm go, he levels her with a deadly look, never taking his eyes off her. Gaping, Grandmother slowly lowers her hand and takes a step back.

I smirk in her direction, satisfied that she was put her in place even though, in reality, it's not nearly enough.

"Bella," Mom gasps, taking my hand in hers.

Turning to see what has her so upset, I find she's mad at me but concerned. Following her line of sight, I see a small sliver of dark red oozing from beneath my middle fingernail and instantly release my hand. Immediately, throbbing engulfs the fleshy part of my palm, sending blood moving quicker from my open wound.

Gran inhales sharply, as do I, and at the same time, we both move. Gran moves forward in an effort to reach me while I move back toward my father.

To my shock, Mom stops me with a firm hand, leading me over to the sink.

She holds my hand under the warm stream of water, her fingers delicately washing the already bruising area.

"It's okay," she murmurs, and I believe her.

There's an aura of calm surrounding her and a peacefulness in her face that would be hard to disguise. All of that in itself calms me, and my tense muscles relax, my uninjured hand hitting the cabinet with a dull thump.

Behind Mom, Gran looks over her shoulder, watching Mom's face carefully as she helps me clean my wound. Every so often, Mom glances at her from the corner of her eye, but says nothing, and carries on as if nothing is happening.

Loudly, Dad clears his throat and gives a sheepish Gran a pointed look. She nods once, the apples of her cheeks blossoming into a dark pink color. It's the first time I've seen her look embarrassed; I want to take out my cell phone and document it because I know no one will believe me.

Before stepping away, Gran whispers something in Mom's ear, which makes her smile in gratitude, but she never falters from bandaging my palm. It seems whatever problem Gran had with Mom is over and done with, based on the proud and amazed look on her face, I'm not ready to forgive just yet.

I focus on Mom as she puts the finishing touches on my hand, patting my arm once she's done. "You're good to go."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Now that that's settled," Dad starts, remaining in between myself and Grandmother. "We need to talk; all of us. Bella, why don't you head out and I'll call you when we eat?"

Having no problem with that, I nod and wave goodbye to my parents, not trusting myself to behave politely toward my grandparents.

"You're going to let her go after the way she spoke to me?" Grandmother balks. "This is why your children—"

"Enough!" Dad shouts, slamming his hand down on the table. The salt and pepper shakers jump and fall on their sides, the contents spilling.

I, too, jump, surprised at the red hue his face is taking on.

"Sit down and be quiet, Beth. _I'm _speaking now," he tells her, his tone hard. "I'm sick and tired of your constant criticisms—"

Discretely, Mom shoos me from the house with a stern flick of her wrist. I want to stay and watch what's going to undoubtedly be the ass-chewing of the decade, but I don't want any of that wrath inflicted on me.

I'm glad I'm being sent away. I need to get out and calm down, but once I close the door behind me, I realize getting away won't be as easy as I thought.

In my haste, I had forgotten to grab the car keys.

I suppose I could simply go back in, but from the yelling already filtering through the wood and glass, I don't think that's a good idea.

Remembering another option I have, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Edward.

_**Don't read too much into this, but I need your help. I need to go somewhere. Anywhere. You available? ~B**_

As I wait for a reply from Edward, I walk around the front porch to gain some privacy. I'm still a little shaken about the last half hour of craziness that transpired between my family members, and the over the top reactions by Gran and Grandmother.

Yeah, there's a solid chance I'm completely insane now.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**I'll try to not keeping you waiting too long for the next one. :) **


	30. Chapter 29

**Hello! I think this chapter *might* make up for the lack of Cullen's in the previous chapter ... or might not. Who knows? **

**Big thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, and favorites this story. I appreciate you all!**

**Do you know who else I appreciate to the moon and back? Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03. They're seriously awesome. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)**

**SM owns everything Twilight. **

* * *

At the sound of crunching gravel, I look up, thinking it'll be Edward, but instead I see _two_ familiar faces exiting a sporty silver two-door. Alice's smile is bright and radiating happiness, and Jasper's is just as bright, though there's still a slight, shy, tentative quality to it.

I'm glad the two of them are getting along so well; personally, I think they're well suited for each another. Alice's exuberance is a perfect match for Jasper's calmness, and Jasper's seriousness is the counterpart to Alice's easy-going nature.

Regardless of how happy I am that they're getting along, I can't help but feel a little betrayed and pissed.

It's certainly a surprise to me because I didn't realize I was _this _upset.

But yet, here I am.

Jasper has been so against our friendship lately; he's gone to extreme lengths to make sure Alice and I don't remain friends, even going as far as taking my phone and sending her terrible texts in my name.

Now, he's all friendly with her?

I've always known the Cullens were good people, and I knew once Jasper had spent the day with them, he would see it too. However, seeing them so friendly with each other, as if nothing had ever happened, has me annoyed.

Knowing my cousin, he's already asked for forgiveness, but did Alice already give in that quickly?

If she has, I suppose that's her business, but I won't be so easily won over. He almost ruined my friendship; family or not, that isn't something I take lightly.

What I _also _won't take lightly is Alice ignoring me when all I wanted to do was comfort my friend. She couldn't seem to let me in, but she'll let _him _in?

Does our friendship mean nothing to her?

"Well, well, well," I say with a drawl, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against the banister. "Look at this picture, and it wasn't too long ago that one of you was being a dick, and the other was ignoring me."

Alice frowns at my words, but I pay her no mind.

Jasper swallows thickly, his gaze dropping to the ground, which doesn't help Alice's displeasure. Her lips press tightly together as if she's holding back from saying something. I would honestly prefer it if she would say _something_; I would love to give her a piece of my mind too.

"It's all in the past now, Bella. I've apologized to Alice and her family."

"I know, but not to me," I reply. "Don't you think your actions hurt me too? I could have lost a friend because of your asshole behavior!"

At my words, Alice's harsh look fades slightly, but not enough. "You should let it go," she tells me, stepping up to Jasper's side. "You're overreacting."

"Don't start with me," I warn. "I'm pissed at both of you. You _ignored _me, Alice. I'm your friend, and you shut me out, but you can talk to him?"

From the corner of my eye, I spot Edward driving up, and moments later, he gracefully lifts himself from his familiar car, smoothly gliding over to us with a raised eyebrow.

"What's going on? There seems to be some tension here."

"Tons of it," I seethe, glaring at the two people in front of me. "I can't stand people with double standards."

"Right," Edward says, drawing out the word. He rocks back on his heels, looking way too pleased for some reason. "You should probably calm down; I'm kind of fond of my sister at the moment, and I would rather you not kill your cousin."

"Whatever," I mumble, stalking off.

I'm acting like a complete child, I know, but Jasper's past behavior and Alice's defense and the fact that they've been obviously hanging out has my worst qualities bursting out like thorns.

Behind me, feet pound against the pavement.

"Hey, Bella, listen," Jasper starts, coming to a stop in front of me. He places a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off, not wanting to pick on his frustrating calm.

In a gesture of surrender, he holds his hands up in the air and takes half a step back. "Chill out."

"Don't tell me to chill out. You treated her terribly, you know. It's bad enough you said some of that shit to her face, but you made her think _I _said it. You know I would never hurt someone I consider a friend like that … through a text, anyway," I amend, thinking of the false friendships that tried to be started with me throughout the years.

He nods in agreement, shame coloring his features. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you and betrayed your trust in me. I'll make it up to you and never do it again, I swear."

Taking a moment, I stare at him unblinkingly, gauging whether or not he's being serious and truthful. I feel nothing but honesty radiating from him and while that certainly is a comfort, I'm not ready to forget so easily.

He's going to have to prove to me he's regretful. In the meantime, I'll cut him a bit of slack. After all, there's enough tension in this family to last us a few years.

"You better not, or I'll make you pay. I swear with everything in me, Jasper, I will."

"I believe you, and I won't make you doubt me again; you have my word." He ends that statement with a firm nod and set shoulders, looking older than his years.

"I told the same thing to Alice and her family," he quietly admits. "I wanted to apologize to them. Once I spent the day with them and saw the truth, I knew I screwed up … big time. I was just too stubborn and pig-headed to see it."

"How'd that go?" I would have loved to have been there, seeing Jasper squirm as he forced out his apology through his embarrassment.

"They accepted it without question."

His response is baffled and surprised, but I'm not; the Cullens are good people. The ones I could see being a problem are Edward and Emmett, considering their knee-jerk reactions and harsh attitudes. Underneath it all, however, I can tell they're good people, too.

"That's good."

"Yeah. I'm glad they're not upset with me. Anyway, after I apologized, I sought out Alice and confessed everything. She knew it wasn't you, of course, but she forgave me anyway."

"Why?" I question, completely perplexed. I had seen Alice when Jasper was treating her so awfully. She seemed like she was half a person; a broken shell of a girl that needed to be pieced back together.

How could she forgive and forget so easily?

"Thanks," he responds dryly.

"You didn't see her, Jasper," I tell him seriously. "She was hurt; it was like you broke her or something. Not that I saw much. She wouldn't let me in."

He flinches, his face flushing with pain. When he responds, his voice is no louder than a whisper. "I don't know why. I'm just glad I have a second chance."

His phrasing is weird, considering they weren't exactly close before everything blew up between them.

"What's that mean? Are you two dating?"

To my amusement, his cheeks flood with color, and a hand flies to the back of his neck. "Yeah. We're taking things slow."

Despite my fading annoyance at the situation, I'm glad; I think they'll make a good couple. He's the perfect balance to her high energy, and she's what he needs to bring him out of his shell. I'm not sure how long they'll last, but I think she'll make a good impact on his life.

"Let's not talk about this anymore." I vaguely point at the house over my shoulder. "Don't go in there. Dad is telling off Grandmother, so dinner is postponed until we're summoned back."

Glee shines on Jasper's face. "What happened?"

By the time I'm done recounting everything, Jasper looks to be in awe. "Really? Uncle Charlie did that?" he questions, jumping in the air twice and bringing a fist to his mouth that does nothing to conceal his happiness. "Aw, man. I wish I had been there."

"I wish I could continue to be there," I tell him, partly grumbling. "I want Grandmother to get put in her place … and Gran too, as much as it pains me. She's been watching Mom like a hawk."

All previous delight Jasper had, vanishes. In turn, it's replaced with a stiff seriousness that has me snickering under my breath.

"You know why, don't you?"

He shakes his head, looking at a spot on my shoulder. "No, Gran has been weird since she arrived."

"And I'm calling bullshit. I know about Mo—" I start, and immediately, he grasps my upper arm, pulling me away.

"Bella, you don't know what you're talking about, so drop it," he hisses.

"If you would just—"

Gripping my hand hard, he stops me, his eyes begging and beseeching. "Bella, I'm begging you. Don't dig any further into this, okay? There are … things you can't know … things that could hurt you. I know you're aware Aunt Renee isn't like she used to be, but just leave it at that. Please, for now, at least."

This isn't the first time I had gotten this request, and I know if I keep going, it won't be the last either. I wish someone would just let me speak things through, but so far, no one has been willing. Honestly, I'm getting really ticked off, and I feel as if I'm about to blow.

Knowing that now definitely isn't the time, I grit my teeth and nod.

"Fine," I force out. "But sooner or later, I'm going to talk, and everyone will listen, even if I have to tie you all down to do it."

Jasper smiles, chuckling lightly. "I'd like to see that happen. You're a feeble _girl._"

I raise an eyebrow at his teasing words and show him just what this _girl _can do. Reaching out, I pinch the thin skin of his shoulder and pull, snorting when he squeals like a baby.

"You're evil," Jasper complains, rubbing at his shoulder while looking at his phone. "I thought we all could go do something, but now I'm not sure."

"Who's 'we all?'" If he's talking about Edward and Alice, I have no doubt I'll be invited anyway, so I'm not worried on that front.

"Ben, Tyler, and Eric," he answers, waving his phone around. "I just texted them; we're meeting up."

"Don't they have families and dinner too?"

"Yeah, but not until late this afternoon, that's why we're getting together."

"And you were going to skip out on _our _family dinner for your friends? Classy."

"No," he argues. "I was going to see what time we were having it since no one was answering their phone. Now, I know I can go, and you're not invited. You're too mean."

"I'm so broken up about that," I reply, my tone droll.

I'm not going to miss anything there, besides the four of them making fools over themselves as they drool over some stupid game.

Jasper scowls once more, but it softens moments later. "You sure you don't want to come?"

"I don't. I'll be fine."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Walk around, go into Port Angeles? Hang out with Rose? The possibilities are endless."

His response is sarcastically droll. "In this area? Sure … and besides, Rose is with Emmett."

The face he makes is full of disgust, and for once, I have no desire to find out what's causing it.

I brush off his response with a flick of my wrist. "Go on. You worry too much."

"So? You're my family."

"That's where I know you from!" I playfully respond, snapping my fingers before rolling my eyes and pushing him away lightly. "And I'm fine. Go."

"I know you're not sleeping well," he calls out when I start to walk away. "Are you having nightmares about what happened on Halloween? And don't lie to me," he says before I can answer, raising a knowing eyebrow.

"Kind of," I reluctantly admit. "But they're not too bad. They'll pass soon."

My words are half-truths, but there's no way I'm going to discuss my dreams right now. The only thing I want to do is keep myself distracted, so I can push all thoughts of my dreams out of my head.

Crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow, the expression on his face is the perfect picture of disbelief. "Do you really believe that?"

"I have to."

Briefly, sympathy washes over his features, but it's gone as quickly as it came. Pulling into a hug, he squeezes me tightly, resting his chin on top of my head. "You're a strong person. You'll get through it."

"Of course I will," I playfully scoff, stepping back. "Now go away. Your geekiness might be contagious, and I don't want it. I have a reputation."

He snorts a laugh but starts to walk backward. "I won't make any comments on that statement. I'll save it for a rainy day."

"Meaning you have nothing, loser! Go and play with your friends now. Maybe you'll think of something while you're out."

Nonchalantly, he flips me off and heads to his car, quietly conversing with Edward and Alice. Though it's somewhat difficult, I do make out him extending the offer to go to play games and watch movies to the pair, both of whom decline.

"… seeing off ..." Alice tells him, her voice trailing off the further I get.

Edward's response is lower and difficult to make out, but I don't doubt he won't go with them. He doesn't necessarily look like a sci-fi lover, but neither does Jasper, so I could be completely wrong about him.

"Hey, Bella!"

Alice calls after me, and I turn, waiting for her to catch up. It doesn't take her long to step in front of me, her fingers nervously twisting together.

"I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean to shut you out. Really. I'm just … not used to people outside of my family caring about me."

"Why? I mean, I know you like him, but why couldn't you let me help you? Why did you speak to him before me?"

"It wasn't intentional. I only spoke to him because he came by to apologize to my family and me. I've only spoken to him today, I swear."

I study her closely, looking for any hint she's lying, but there doesn't seem to be any. She seems sincere, and belatedly, I realize I might be drawing this way out of proportion.

"It's fine."

"It's really not. I should have thought about your side of things. I'm … out of practice with some things."

"It's okay. I'm upset, but it'll pass ... and I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to get so upset."

She nods, smiling softly. "I understand. So, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later?"

"I guess. When are you thinking?"

Her nose wrinkles. "Later in the week? I wish it could be today, but I have to go," she says, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.

Unwillingly, my eyes trail over her shoulder to Edward, who is talking with my cousin, but smirking in my direction.

"Where are you going?" I ask, in an effort to distract myself.

Alice's face falls into a slight pout. "James and Victoria are leaving, so I'm seeing them off."

"On Thanksgiving? They're not staying?"

She shakes her head. "We had it yesterday. James and Victoria have other plans for tonight, hence why they're leaving."

The sadness in her voice is evident.

"You're close with them?"

She nods somberly. "Yeah. Victoria is kind of like my conscious; I can talk to her about anything, and she gives me good advice. And James … he was my protector when I was … younger. He was the one who found me and took me to Carlisle."

"Why didn't he adopt you?"

Her nose scrunches slightly, her lips twisting as if she tasted something bad before breaking out in laughter. "No, I can't imagine it. James isn't really parent material; he was born to be the cool uncle, and he's okay with that. He knew Carlisle was the best person to take care of me, and that's that."

Her wording about her adoption is strange, but I say nothing, knowing it won't get me any answers.

"That's good, then. You're definitely in the right spot."

"I am." Her smile is as sweet and thankful as the expression on her face. "I have to go now. I know Victoria is anxious to leave, and I don't want to miss them."

I wave her off. "Go. Have fun and tell them goodbye for me."

Her lips twist in an effort to hide her smile. "I will. I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll set something up."

"Okay, see ya."

Edward saunters up to me with a smirk as soon as his sister departs. "So, you _needed _me, huh?"

"Didn't I say not to read into it?"

"I didn't see that part," he replies, still smirking. "I just read that you needed me and wanted to be in my company because you can't get enough."

Rolling my eyes, I stalk off, wondering if I truly _did _go insane. Why did I think texting _Edward _was a good idea and a means for escape?

There are plenty of other options I could have taken, so why did I text him?

"Do you talk to yourself often?" he asks, matching my strides with ease.

"Who says I'm talking to myself?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Right, I forgot. You're certifiable. Are your other personalities not playing well with each other?"

"They never do. And apparently not one of them is smart enough to grab the car keys, so I can't even leave Forks."

He sucks air through his teeth, wincing dramatically. "That sucks. Too bad there's not another option, like a quasi-friend with a car that you texted. Oh, wait," he pauses with a fake look of epiphany.

I come to a halt. "First of all, you seemed to get over here fast, so you must be hurting for _my _company."

"That's not—"

"And secondly, you were serious about that?"

"I am very serious. I guess your crazy must have rubbed off on me. Too bad, there's plenty of _other _things I would like rubbed on me besides that," he teases with a wink.

Instantly, my head fills with images of the two of us together in tight quarters, pressed tightly against one another as we exchange heavy breaths.

The car would be a perfect place for that … it's certainly cramped enough.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I scrunch my nose in fake disgust to hide the smile threatening at my lips and the blush heating my cheeks. "You're disgusting."

Feigned innocence radiates from him. "I was talking about suntan lotion. Is your mind constantly in the gutter?"

"I told you. I want you all the time," I tell him, my voice monotone.

"Yeah," he replies, rolling his eyes with a slight smile. "It's _crystal _clear. Get ahold of yourself, woman. Come on." he invites with a wave of his hand, walking backward. "Let's get out of here."

"And go where? To your murder dungeon?"

"Who keeps revealing my secrets?" He asks in mock indignation.

I snicker and shake my head. "Jesus, you're mental. Talk to your father about that."

His response is droll. "I'll get right on that."

Walking backward, he twirls his keys around his index finger. "Are you coming?"

"Whoa!" I wave my hands in the air frantically. "You're thinking too far ahead, lover. You haven't even bought me dinner or kissed me yet."

His feet falter underneath him, his eyes wide, and mouth dropped open. Laughter is bubbling up from my throat, but before it can leave my lips, it's replaced by a choked gasp.

Faster than I've ever seen him move, he dashes to my side, one arm sliding around my waist and across my back while the other cradles my jaw … cheek in his palm.

"Okay, then."

His lips slant over me firmly, but still allowing me some control. Lightly, he suctions at my bottom lip, his tongue licking against the sensitive skin. I shiver, and he holds me closer, slowly dipping me backward.

The feeling is unsettling, and I gasp, grasping his upper arms tightly. He deepens the kiss, and a buzzing tingle emits on my tongue, creating a pleasurable burst of electricity to shoot through me. I moan, and in response, his fingers on my back and face lightly sweep against my skin.

I respond in kind, meeting each of kisses with one of my own until my lungs force me to pull back.

Surprisingly, he looks just as affected as I am, his chest rising and falling rapidly, matching with each breath I take in and release.

"Satisfied?" he asks, his tone cocky.

It takes me a moment for his words and tone to register, but once they do, I shrug, placing my hands on his chest and peering up at his honey-colored eyes. "Eh. It was all right. You're improving; I'll give you that."

He scowls. "Really? I'll show you 'all—"

Before he can say another word, I plant my lips on his, effectively silencing him. I only pull back when I feel his arms tighten around me.

"What's the plan?"

"I'm leaving you on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Good luck," he jokes. "Get in."

"I don't know now," I muse, twisting my face up as I playfully pretend to think about it. "Go with you and potentially go missing? Hmm … "

"Go with me or stay in Forks and be bored to tears," he counters, moving his hands up and down in the air as if he's weighing something. "Decisions, decisions."

Now that he's put it that way, there's only one option.

"Let's go."

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

"You're not scared, are you?" Edward questions, a smirk playing on his lips.

I scoff and ease my white-knuckled grip from the door handle. My hand immediately starts to throb, the blood flow rushing into my appendage with a ferocity that causes my fingers to tingle and tremble.

Discretely as I can, I shake it off, flexing my fingers to rid myself of the pins and needles feeling.

"Not at all," I reply, hoping I sound as carefree as I'm trying to portray. His smirk deepens, telling me I'm not as successful as I want to be, but honestly, I don't care.

I'm a proclaimed fast driver and proud of some of the speeds I've reached. The highest I've gone without getting a ticket has been ninety-two, and I managed to go five miles before I slowed my ass down. It happened to be a good thing, too, considering Deputy Mark was waiting at the next intersection, his radar gun hanging lazily out of the window as he struggled to stay awake.

Despite the utter terror I'm feeling as we soar down the street, leaving other cars behind in a literal trail of dust, I'm having a good time. Once I set aside the feeling of impending doom and focus on Edward's calm and relaxed demeanor behind the wheel, I find myself grinning from ear to ear.

Even my body is starting to vibrate with excitement as the scenes of nature rush by the windows in a blur of green and brown. It's a thrill I never want to end.

"Where are we going, anyway? You never told me. Which, I might add, you've done twice now. That's kidnapping," I say in a playful sing-song manner.

He chuckles, low and deep, and my body tingles in a strange way that has me squirming.

"You got in the car willingly," he reminds me, his hands easily caressing the wheel as he slows the car down once we enter Port Angeles. "After I thoroughly kissed you, which you seemed to enjoy. What does that say about you other than you're crazy about me?"

"Mind your ego," I playfully warn. "I couldn't _not _kiss you back. It would have hurt your fragile feelings." He rolls his eyes, preparing to say something, but I continue. "And it means I'm an idiot, that's what it says. However, I _was _threatened with being bored, so an afternoon with you versus boredom in Forks?" I pause, tapping my pursed lips with my index finger. "Hmm. I think I'll take option one."

"Even though you might be alone with a psychopath and never again see the light of day?"

Once more, I scoff. "The chances of us both being psychopaths are astronomical."

He laughs loudly, his head thrown back against the seat. "Right. Maybe _I _should have thought about this. Now I'm scared for my own safety."

Reaching over, I pat his arm. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Much."

In a lightning-quick move, he flips my hand over, so he's the one grasping my fingers in between his cool ones. I gasp at the movement and feel of his skin on mine; breathing in uneven bursts as his fingers gently rub the inside of my wrist.

Satisfied with my reaction, he smirks, rubbing the delicate area more deliberately.

"I think I can take care of myself."

"You think?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and pulling my arm back. I would have thought he would be over-assured and cocky, considering everything I know about him.

"Well," he begins, releasing my hand, though it seems like he does so reluctantly.

Testing the waters, I allow my hand to fall onto his thigh, scratching my fingers against the denim of his jeans. He shivers, and this time, it's my turn to smirk, which he ignores.

"You can be unpredictable sometimes," he continues. "It makes for split-second decisions and makes my survival a little bit difficult. But, I've survived this long. I can hold out a little longer."

I snort a laugh, but underneath the humor, I think he's right. The only other people who have been able to put up with me and all my frustrating ways have been my cousins, and so far, Alice.

If he doesn't hate me completely and isn't frightened by my brusque behavior, then I don't think he's going anywhere.

The thought, no matter how startling, makes my cheeks blossom with warmth, and my heart, beat a little quicker in my chest. Despite his asinine behavior at times, I'm glad he's sticking around. There's something about him and being in his company that I enjoy.

I just can't put my finger on it.

Not wanting him to see my reaction, I turn toward the window and focus on downtown Port Angeles, watching the vague impressions of buildings pass by.

"Where are we going? You've sparked my curiosity. You're not going to dump me in an abandoned field somewhere, are you?"

"The thought did cross my mind, but no. Alice would kill me, not to mention our parents."

"Good news for me."

"I suppose."

He turns left down a street where the Port Angeles movie theater comes into view, with its shiny metal and dark brick facade. There are quite a few horror movies that premiered this month, and I had wanted to go, especially to the one opening this weekend. With all of my family coming in, however, I knew it was impossible.

Now, I'm not so sure. Hope blooms within me, but I try not to assume.

I don't want to be an ass.

"I thought we'd go to the movies. There's a new one I wanted to see. Up for it?"

Before he's finished speaking, I'm bouncing in place, grinning like a lunatic and grabbing at his shoulder. I'm acting like a total fool, but I don't really care; horror movies are my favorite hobby.

A nice bonus to this is telling Jasper about it when he hasn't seen any of them yet. It'll be nice to rub it in his face that I got to see a horror movie while he was wasting his time watching science fiction.

It's a petty and childish move, but so was his behavior.

In a way, I can understand his reasoning; that doesn't mean I can't punish him for it, though.

"Yes. Absolutely," I tell him, shaking him as hard as I can, which doesn't do much, but I didn't expect it would.

Leaning forward, I place a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek, pulling back to him blink rapidly, his mouth dropping open as he stares before a bark of astonished laughter bursts from his throat.

"Are you sure? You don't seem too thrilled with the idea."

"I'm not thrilled at all," I reply, feigning nonchalance and a yawn. "But I know men and their egos are very sensitive, and I can tell _you _want to go, so I'll bite my tongue … for now."

"Mm-hmm," he hums, casting me a look from the corner of his eye as he parks. "Right. You would almost be believable if you didn't mention biting your tongue. Since I've known you, you haven't kept quiet about anything."

At this, I snort.

Sure, I've been plenty vocal about many things, but there's also quite a bit I didn't say, and I tell him so.

"How much more could there be?" He questions, amazed.

I smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually. Sometimes, people shouldn't filter. You especially; I like hearing you speak your mind."

Raising an eyebrow, I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest, wondering if I should call bullshit on this.

From previous experience with me running my mouth around him, I know for a fact he's gotten super pissed over what I've said. Now, all of a sudden, he likes me speaking my mind?

Yeah, I doubt it.

"Bullshit," I respond with a laugh. "I've seen your face when I speak sometimes. You look _pissed. _You can't tell me you like me speaking my mind when it pisses you off."

"When you say something rude and bitchy, no, I _don't _like it," he amends. "Other times? Yeah, I do."

Suddenly, his gaze turns bashful, and it falls to his lap. He winces lightly and shoves a hand through his hair, turning his gaze completely away from me to stare out of the window. He almost looks as if he can't believe he said such a thing and wishes he could take it back.

Wanting to ease the mounting tension in the air, I nudge his arm. "You mean when it's not directed at you?"

Slowly, he nods, fighting a grin. "Precisely."

"Well, stop doing things that tick me off … like being yourself. You won't have a problem then."

Rolling his eyes, he opens the door, swinging out his body. "I'll work on that."

Leaning over the console, I call out, "you do that!"

He shuts the door in my face, and I cackle, feeling pretty pleased with myself. My glee hangs on as he shoots me irritated looks through the windshield as he stalks over to my side, but there's no force behind it. His eyes are light, and despite the pressed hard line of his lips, I notice the corners pulling upward.

Reaching for my door before I can, I wave an impatient hand. "The movie starts in five minutes. Let's go."

"Wow," I remark, exiting the car. "You were almost nice, asshole. Congrats."

Before he can respond, there's a raspy chuckle coming from my left. Turning, I see an older guy with thin, wispy white hair standing on the sidewalk; his wife tucked tightly into his side.

Seeing us looking, he flushes, shoving his free hand into his pocket. "Sorry, I didn't mean eavesdrop. I stopped when I heard a bit of your conversation. Reminds me of myself and Mary at your age," he says, gazing down at his wife with fondness and love. "We were doing the same thing you're doing now. It takes us back."

Edward smiles kindly at the couple while I shake my head.

"We're not together," I tell him. While the idea is nice, I can't see us together; we're too different and better off as kind of-friends, like we are now.

Besides, what makes people think we're together? We bicker more often than not. Does that scream "healthy relationship" to them?

Edward nods in agreement while the older man knowingly smirks, looking between us with a spark in his eye. "Ah, I see. My mistake. Enjoy your afternoon."

The man walks off, and Edward stares after him, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion and bewilderment. After the old guy disappears into the crowd, he turns to stare at me, the same puzzled gawking look on his face that turns pensive moments later.

"What?"

Shaking his head, he laughs lightly. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Uh-huh," I reply, not believing him at all. I want to press him for details and ask what the hell he was thinking so hard about, but I know it won't go over well. "Okay, well, are we going? You were in such a hurry earlier. Are you ready yet?"

Muttering under his breath, he jerks his head. "Go."

Leading the way to the theater, he walks in first, holding the door open behind him and stalking to the box office, where he purchases two tickets. Handing me one, he looks innocently confused as I glare.

"Now, what's your problem?"

"I can buy my own ticket."

"I know you can, but I suggested this trip, so, therefore, it's on me. Next time, _you _can pay."

"_Next time_?" I repeat, wondering how many of these days are going to happen.

"Yeah, if I'm not driven insane before everything is over, _next time. _How about this? You can buy your own snacks?"

Brightly, I grin, snatching my ticket from his fingers. "That's perfect, because I don't want any snacks."

Following behind me, he falls into step at my side. "And if you did want snacks, and I offered to buy them?"

"I would accept them. It's free food. I won't turn that down."

Shaking his head and fighting a smile, he nudges my shoulder with his own. "Come on, PITA. We're going to miss the movie."

"You say that like I should be ashamed," I gloat, walking past him into the theater. "I'm very proud of that title; thank you very much."

The theater is practically deserted, save for five other people in the darkened room. Three are sitting near the front, giggling and tossing popcorn at one another. The other two are sitting way up in the back row, too impatient for the movie to start to begin making out.

The sight of them practically swallowing each other's faces is too much to bear, so I look away with a groan of disgust and head toward the middle aisle, claiming a seat.

"I didn't peg you for a prude," Edward remarks, taking the seat next to me. He rests his arm next to mine on the armrest, his pinky finger lying precariously close to mine.

Lightly, I shiver and wonder if he's doing this on purpose, considering his affinity for teasing our short make-out sessions, but there's nothing in his gaze to suggest otherwise.

Surmising it must be my hormones acting up again, I clear my throat and shift sideways, subsequently moving my arm.

"I'm not," I counter, jerking my head toward the couple who has now moved on to groping. "But _that _isn't suitable for public. Tell me, do _you _want to see something like that? Or _hear _that during the entire movie?"

His nose scrunches, and he shudders, shaking his head. "You've got a point," he reluctantly admits before his face smoothes, and a devilish twinkle enters his eyes as he leans toward me. "So, what you're saying is you're not interested in making out?"

"With who? Someone down there?" I ask, pointing at the group of college kids down in front. "Nah, none are my type. That guy back there is already taken, so that's out of the question. Unless someone else comes in, that just leaves you …" I pause, raising an eyebrow. "Are you offering? ''Cause for someone so adamant that they _don't _like me, you're awfully pushy about this subject. I think you protest too much."

"I'm a guy; you're an attractive woman … when you're not being unpleasant. If you need someone to make out with, I will happily volunteer. After all, I _have _learned it's the easiest way to keep you quiet."

Pushing his face away with a grunt, I flick his noise once with my fingers. "You're disgusting. Go jump in the coldest ocean to control your hormones, Edward."

"Relax," he replies, taking my hand and squeezing once. "I won't try to make out with you unless you want to. Remember, I volunteer," he murmurs, lowering his voice and gazing at me through hooded eyes.

The feeling of his cool breath on my lips and the unique scent of him alert me on how close we really are. A part of me doesn't care and wants to close the distance. The memory of his kisses are still fresh in my mind, and warmth spreads throughout me, starting at my belly and growing outward.

My hormones are telling me to go for it, but the more logical side of me is warning me away. If I do this, if I give in, then I'll never hear the end of it. Instead, I want _him _to be in place, wanting and left annoyed.

"Edward?" I whisper, swallowing thickly on purpose to add to the situation. I almost laugh as his eyes darken further, but my humor is quickly dissolved as I note the intense passion radiating from his dark honey eyes.

"Yes?" he answers back, his tone just as breathy.

Seeing him react like this sets me afire, and for some strange reason, I feel confident and cocky. It makes me wonder if we've swapped too much saliva, and his arrogance has infiltrated my DNA.

I have a small inkling he wants this as much as I do, but I won't give in for two reasons.

One, because we're in public.

Two, because I don't want his ego to inflate any more than it already has.

The hormonal side of me will kill me later, but I'll survive.

"Desperate is _not _a good look for you," I continue in the same husky whisper.

Marginally, he jerks back and narrows his eyes, his lips twisting as he tries to appear infuriated. Rolling his eyes upward, he shakes his head and chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more annoying, you manage to surprise me."

Sliding my hand around his upper arm, I hug it tightly, laying my head on his shoulder. "Aw, you say the sweetest things," I coo, fluttering my eyelashes at him when he gazes down with a raised eyebrow.

"The movie is starting." His tone is monotone and unamused, but I'm not buying it.

I shake a finger in his direction. "You're just a sore loser."

"So this is a competition?"

"Isn't it? Aren't you the one keeping score on how much I like to kiss you?"

Slowly, his lips curl into a smile. "You like kissing me?"

"Your words, not mine," I quickly reply, settling into the seat as the lights dim and the upcoming movie trailers start.

I attempt to pull my arm free, so we can sit more comfortably, but Edward clamps down on my arm and shakes his head.

"You can't let go. I'll get scared; I need you to be my support system."

Snorting lightly, I dig my elbow into his side, which causes no reaction in him, except for the slight upturning of his lips.

"I can't believe you managed that lie with a straight face."

"What can I say?" he asks, stretching out his legs as much as he's able, which isn't very far thanks to the narrow aisles. "I'm a master."

"_That, _I believe. Now, be quiet and watch the movie."

"Me? _You're _the one that keeps talking."

"Shh!" Someone up front hisses, causing the others in the group to break out in raucous laughter.

Rolling my eyes, I flip them off, but due to the dark theater and the fact that they've turned around once more, it's useless. I don't care, though; it made me feel better, and to be honest, they deserve it.

We weren't that loud. Besides, it's only the previews.

"Settle down, tiger," Edward whispers in my ear. "I don't feel like fighting anyone for your honor today."

Condescendingly, I pat the arm I was conned into holding. "Don't worry; I'm more than capable of defending myself, so your perfect hair and pretty face are safe for another day."

He growls lightly, his head falling back. "You have a talent for twisting every single thing I say."

Blowing on my free hand, I rub my fingernails on my shirt in a cocky manner. "I'm a master."

He smirks but says nothing, his eyes intent on the screen as the opening credits ominously appear in faded white text, becoming clearer as the dramatic music increases.

The position my arm is in isn't the most comfortable. I pull it back and lay it down on the armrest next to his, trying to ignore the tingle. I don't know why he has this effect on me; maybe it's his cockiness or the fact that he's able to stand me in large doses when no one but my family can.

Maybe it's because of his good looks; no matter how much I want to deny and fight it, I'm not immune to his looks. What separates me from the others is that I don't let him get away with anything, and I don't make a fool of myself.

Or maybe … the tingling in my arm is due to the fact that it was being kept at an unnatural angle by a guy who thinks he's funny.

Yeah, that's probably it.

Realizing I'm spending too much thinking about this, I focus on the screen and soon get lost in the unique storyline. Before I know it, the end credits are rolling, and the lights are turned up into a tolerable dimness with just enough illumination to see where you're walking.

Immediately, I see Edward's hand covering mine and raise an eyebrow in question.

"Excuse me, can I have my hand back? And when exactly did _this _happen?" I ask, raising our joined hands in the air.

He sighs in mock disappointment. "I don't know what to tell you; you're too easily distracted, and you're just not observant. The good news is, however, that I've found another way to keep you quiet. Just sit you in front of the television like a toddler," he coos, reaching to pinch my cheek.

I dodge out of the way, slapping at his hand. "You're such an asshole. You better watch yourself," I warn, removing my hand from his and standing. "You're going to have something lodged somewhere very uncomfortable one day."

"According to my brother, it's already there."

"Wait, let me put on my surprised face," I deadpan, keeping my face as neutral as possible.

Snorting a laugh, he waves ahead. "Come on, ball-buster. Let's go."

"You know," I pause at the end of the aisle, tapping my chin with my index finger. "You should take my inobservance as a slight toward _you._"

He cocks his head to the side, questions radiating from his expression. "Really? How so?"

"I was so unimpressed by _you _and so impressed by a _movie _that I didn't even notice you," I reply brightly, shooting him a beaming smile as I skip toward the theater exit.

At the door, I notice he's not behind me, and I turn back, finding him frozen at the end of the aisle, his mouth opening and closing like I fish.

"Come on, Romeo. You can buy me lunch as a way to make up for the emotional trauma you caused me," I call out, snickering.

At my voice, he snaps out of his gaze, and speed walks toward me. "What emotional trauma?"

"Of holding your hand, of your general presence, of—" I'm ticking the items off on my fingers, but Edward places his hand over my mouth, halting any further progress.

"I didn't know it was such a chore to be around me."

"It's not. You're not intolerable when you're quiet," I tease, paraphrasing his words from earlier.

A strange combination of a sigh, laughter, and a grumble escapes him. I wasn't even sure it was possible for someone to make such a sound, but leave it to Edward.

Overachiever.

Two theater workers step inside, but immediately back-pedal, seeing us still in the entrance of the theater.

"Oh, uh, we need to clean the theater before you can go in," one of them says, nervously glancing down the hall. The broom and dustpan handles shake in his grip, and in the faint light, I can see a sheen of sweat break out across his forehead.

I'm willing to bet a manager is watching them carefully, considering the theater wasn't very clean when we arrived.

"We're just leaving, but he's afraid there's a monster in the hallway. He scares so easily," I say, jerking a thumb toward Edward. "I told him I'd scope things for him. Give me a second, will you?"

All traces of nervousness forgotten, the employees nod slowly, casting suspiciously wary glances at Edward.

"You're not really scared, are you?"

Edward looks at the poor boy like he's stupid. "No. She thinks she's hilarious when in reality, she has the wit of a child."

Stalking out of the theater, I burst out into laughter and tug on his jacket when we're outside. "Come on, put aside your fragile ego for a second, okay? It was hilarious. They thought I was telling the truth. I mean, really? You don't look like you're scared of anything."

"I'm scared of a few things," he contradicts, staring unblinkingly. "I'm always finding new things that frighten me."

"Am I included?" I jokingly ask, feeling uncomfortable with the severity of gaze.

As soon as the question leaves my lips, I realize it was the wrong one to ask. His serious expression deepens, but he attempts to lighten the mood.

"Completely. You're a scary individual. Not physically speaking, more mentally. I think you should consult a doctor."

Broadcasting my middle finger, I sarcastically laugh and look away, but not before I see him swallow thickly and turn his eyes to the ground.

Suddenly, the air around us gets heavy and uncomfortable, something that hasn't happened in quite a bit. Shifting from my right foot to my left, I bite the inside of my cheek and resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest.

"Do you really think that?" He asks after several tense moments that carried on forever. "That's I'm not afraid of anything?"

"Yeah," I reply, the "duh" in my tone apparent. "You're strong; a lot stronger than what you see yourself being."

A shyness I didn't expect flitters across his face. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he turns away; his head ducked down between hunched shoulders.

Realizing I must have embarrassed him, I quickly attempt to fix the situation.

"Can I take that back? It sounded too much like a compliment, and I can't give you compliments."

Awkwardness gone, he turns to stare at me with pursed lips. "Why can't you give me compliments?"

"Because you'll get cocky, and I can't be around you when your ego inflates. Plus, I have a reputation to uphold. If this got out—"

"No one would believe it anyway," he smoothly cuts in. "Don't worry; your kind heart is safe with me."

I snort at that. I'm not sure I have a kind heart. A bitchy, bitter one, maybe. But kind? Highly unlikely.

Slowly, that infuriating cocky smirk grows on his lips and moves toward me, his face inches from mine. "And no, you can't take it back. It's already out there, seared into my memory. You think I'm brave," he says in a slight sing-song tone.

"I also think you're an ass, but that keeps getting forgotten."

He shrugs a single shoulder. "I have a selective memory."

"I'll keep reminding you, then." I pat his shoulder once. "It's my favorite pastime."

At that moment, my stomach grumbles loudly, and I throw my hands over my midsection in an attempt to quiet it. Edward laughs, throwing an arm over my shoulder and guiding me down the street.

"Come on; I'll buy you lunch."

I stop, digging my phone from my pocket and turning the device up before going anywhere else, I should see if everything is okay at my house. I'm not really worried about my parents; my mom is tough, and my dad can hold his own. But my grandparents?

They don't stand a chance.

I'm not a big fan of the attitudes of either of my grandmothers, but I don't want them to leave upset. Although, if Grandmother decided to leave and Grandpa stayed, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, in my opinion.

There are no missed calls from my parents, which I'm not sure is a good or bad thing. It's been a little over two hours since I left, so they could still be hashing things out.

Deciding to take the chance and find out, I dial Mom's cell, and she picks up on the first ring. Edward takes a couple of steps back in an effort to give me privacy, but it's not needed. I shake my head, and he stops, leaning against the building.

"Bella, honey, how are you?"

Her voice is normal, with no hints of frustration or upset.

"I'm good, how are things there?" I ask, kicking at the concrete with the back of my shoe.

In fake solemnity, Edward shakes his head and covers his eyes, making me smile.

"Things are … okay," Mom starts, hesitant. "Your Grandmother left. She didn't like how we were speaking to her and left for Seattle. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If she can't get over whatever issue she has, then it'll be her loss; we're her only family besides Grandpa, and if she can't accept the way things are, then she'll be very lonely."

Mom chuckles, the sound low and tired. "You sound like your father."

"Weird. It's like he and I are related or something."

"Smart-Alek." She pauses, blowing out a breath. "The talk with your Gran is taking longer than we thought, though. Would you mind staying out a little longer?"

"No, that's fine."

"Thank you, baby. I'll text you when you should come back, okay?"

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Edward pushes off the wall and gestures ahead. "Ready to eat?"

My stomach answers for me, and nothing more needs to be said. I follow him down the block to my favorite café, my mouth salivating at the rich aroma wafting through the air. I race ahead into the building, ignoring the chuckles following after me.

Thanks to the familiar face behind the counter and my never-changing order, my food and drink are ready in no time. Taking the table in the back corner, I immediately start eating and notice Edward is waiting at the counter, irregularly rapping a knuckle against the surface.

Every so often, he'll cast a glance at me, and his knocking will pick up in a more frenzied and uneven pace.

Two minutes into standing, the flustered and slightly nervous looking waitress slides over a paper cup, her smile turning into a more genuine one once he slides a few bills into the tip jar and walks away.

I'm extremely curious to find out what he's doing and what he's gotten.

So far, I've hardly ever seen him with any type of food or drink product, except for the rare occasion. I can't help but wonder what makes this situation so special.

"You didn't waste any time," he remarks, sliding into the chair across from me, both of his hands wrapped around the cup like a lifeline.

I swallow the mouthful and shake a finger in his direction; all previous thoughts momentarily are forgotten. "You're not supposed to comment on a girl's eating habits. You're so uncivilized."

His expression turns humorously mocking. "My apologies."

"Not accepted, but I appreciate the sentiment."

In our close quarters, I detect the strong and flavorful scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and black tea. Immediately, I know what it is.

Foggy Morning Tea; it's a favorite of mine, a beverage I love on extremely cold days … but why would Edward have it?

Internally, I berate myself. There are a handful of drinks with that flavor combination. Just because I happen to like that tea and that he _might have _gotten it doesn't mean anything.

To be sure, I study the ordinary tan cup closely, and sure enough, I spot the thin white string of the teabag underneath his palm.

Raising an eyebrow, I bite off a small part of my egg and sausage sandwich, nodding toward the cup in his hands.

"I didn't figure you for a tea drinker."

His mouth slackens, and he blinks rapidly, looking from me to the cup in his hands. "You can smell this?"

"I do have normal senses, and," I trail off in a whisper, leaning over the table toward him. "In close conditions such as this and something as fragrant as _that _I can smell it. Plus, the white string tipped me off."

Rolling his eyes, he sits back, releasing his right hand to run through his hair, but the other remains in place.

"You'll go places, Swan."

"Hope so. Tell me, why that drink?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "Don't know. I thought it sounded good."

"And yet you haven't tried it."

Unblinkingly, he stares. "It's too hot."

"But not hot enough for you to let go."

Annoyance flickers on his face. "Stop paying attention to my drinking habits and focus on your own meal."

I take a bite and a hefty swallow of my drink. "So touchy."

"And you're nosy. I don't want to drink it now, okay?"

"That's fine." After a moment, the irritation still hasn't faded from his features, and I feel a fraction of guilt for being so pushy. "I'm sorry. I was only teasing. Kind of. Just ignore me, okay?"

"That's kind of hard to do," he starts, his focus solely on the cup he's holding. His face is obscured, and I hate it; I _need _to see his face in order to tell what his mood is and what he's up to.

Weirdly, my heart stutters in my chest at his words, and the intake of breath I take comes out in a sharp gasp. Thankfully, I wasn't eating or drinking anything; I surely would have choked.

Why had I reacted that way? Why had he said _that_?

A multitude of possibilities enter my mind on what they could mean, but strangely enough, all I circle back to, is the fact that maybe he might like me.

I roll my eyes internally, hating to sound like such a typical high school girl. I don't want to think this way, and I curse him for making me feel so anxious and unsure of myself.

"Why is that?" I try to make my question seem as nonchalant as possible, but I can hear the slight hint of nerves in my tone.

Pinching myself in reprimand, I wait for his answer by continuing to eat my meal. After my second bite, I narrow my eyes at the shaking of his shoulders and the full-fledged grin I can see through the hand _trying _to cover his face.

"You're hard to ignore because you're so outspoken and loud. Not to mention, brash, abrasive—"

Waving my hands in the air, I interrupt, resisting the urge to throw something at him. "I get it, jerk. For those very same reasons, you're also hard to ignore. But we can't forget your asshole-like qualities too."

"You better not," he playfully scolds. Seconds later, his features turn wolfish, and I know the next words from his mouth won't be anything good. "You also forget my good looks and excellent kissing skills."

I snort into my drink. "Eh. I've seen better-looking guys … and your kissing skills are sub-par, at best."

"You don't seem to mind," he says innocently.

"Moments of insanity; that's my story, and I'm sticking to it." I quickly finish up and stand, throwing my garbage away in a nearby trashcan. "You can drop me off wherever, I guess. I'll go home when my parents text me."

Edward shakes his head before I'm through. "Nope. I'm kidnapping you for the afternoon, so you have to come with me. Sorry."

He walks ahead, opening the door and stepping aside as I pass. "You're awfully presumptuous, you know."

His lips purse slightly, and he shrugs once, leading the way back to his car. "I figure you'd tell me to go screw myself if you didn't want to do it … and so far, you haven't."

Bobbing my head in agreement, I grin. "You get me," I reply, making my tone overly sweet.

"And it's only sometimes I wish I didn't," he teases.

Edward speeds away from Port Angeles, the tires squealing against the pavement once we exit the city limits. I roll my eyes at his silly grin, but I can't help but smile as well. The feeling of speeding down the road is a feeling like no other; for me, it represents freedom and peace.

With nothing between you and the road, as well as the feeling of wind rushing past you, it evokes a feeling of serenity you can't duplicate, and I love it.

"We're going back to Forks?" I question, noting the familiar sights that take us back home.

I'm a little disappointed, to be honest; there's a lot more to do in Port Angeles.

"For a little bit. I need to pick up something at my house first."

Murmuring an acknowledgment, I sit back and softly sing along to the radio, ignoring Edward's chuckles as I sing off-key a few times. Instead of trying my best, I purposefully miss the notes, enjoying his discomfort when he cringes more than once.

After the song ends, he turns down the radio. "Okay, enough music. Let's just have quiet time."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I turn in my seat and wave a hand toward the radio, "I'd like to hear you sing, Mr. Perfect."

Silently accepting my challenge, he turns the music up slightly, a soft and comforting melody filling the interior. When he sings along with the artist, he sounds slightly better but not as great as the singer.

Instead, his voice is warmer and deeper, sending shivers down my spine.

"Figures, he's good at this too," I mutter, sinking into the seat and lightly sighing as I continue to listen. I remember hearing about him singing at the hospital fair for the kids in Port Angeles, so obviously, he would have a decent voice.

The longer I listen, the more I recognize something familiar about his tone as his voice trails off into a hum at a particular part.

When the song concludes, I don't open my eyes straight away; instead, I keep racking my brain, trying to figure out why his voice sounds so damn familiar. I'm absolutely positive I've never heard him sing, and I _know _for certain he's never done it at school or when we were working on our project together, so _where _have I heard it?

"Aw, look, you're entranced by me. Now you just have to admit it, and we can begin our torrid love affair."

I don't open my eyes, but I can tell by the cockiness in the tenor of his words that he's smirking. Instead of acknowledging him verbally, I shoot him my middle finger, still trying to think.

Is it just in my head? Have I gone insane? Or have I dreamed about it?

My eyes pop open at the thought; after Royce's attack and after what happened on Halloween, I had terrible nightmares. Suddenly, the nightmares dissipated and were erased as a song entered my head. I can't remember how it goes, but I'm willing to bet _Edward _was the one humming it.

But why? What purpose could he have by being in my room at night?

I shiver at the thought, not wanting to think about it.

In response to my crude action and oblivious to my thoughts, he pokes my side once, and I have to bite my lip to hold in the chuckles the action evokes.

"Look at that; you're ticklish."

"How old are you? Four? Keep your hands to yourself and focus on the road."

"I'll have you know, I'm a fabulous driver … and I can multitask."

"I know. You do day-to-day things and piss me off at the same time. You're a master."

Playfully, he waggles his eyebrows. "I knew you'd come around, but now isn't the time, servant. Later, okay? The car is so cramped to do anything strenuous."

Unable to help myself, I snort. "You're such a dork."

After a beat of silence, I continue, though I tread carefully, trying to rein in my anger. "You sing really well. What was that other song you sang around me that one time? I've been trying to place the name of it."

His eyebrows pull together, and he shakes his head. "I haven't sung anything around you since—"

He cuts off suddenly, his lips mashed together, his jaw sticking out, and his knuckles turning bone-white against the steering wheel as his grip tightens.

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.

"You've … been … in … my … room," I grind out, fury coiling within me, ready to snap.

* * *

**Busted! Edward's in trouble and they're both in serious denial. Don't worry, though. It's not a permanent state. ;)**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please stay safe and I'll see you next time!**


End file.
